Circle of Life
by JD11
Summary: Under Riker's command, the Enterprise and other ships have become renegades of the corrupted Federation. How will they prove their innocence and remove the corrupt Earth President? And how will that lead to intergalactic war? :Sequel Circle of Life series
1. Year 1: 2372

_Author's Note:_ Hi everyone! Well, here it is, the (sort of) long awaited sequel to _"Circle of Life"_ Series, which was originally posted way back when. This sequel finally getting on this site is largely due to the interest and help of NightWitch69. Thanks so much!

A few notes: This story will eventually be a crossover with DS9 and Voyager. Even if you don't watch them, you'll be able to figure out what's going on. Hopefully.

Anything in _italics_ is one of four things: a computer's voice, someone over a com.link, Betazoids talking telepathically, or a flashback (I know, I need to be more creative). You'll be able to figure it out from the scene.

Also, you don't have to read the prequel, though it would probably help you out. Here's a brief summary for those who don't want to, didn't know about it, need a little refresher, or just haven't been paying attention…

I hope you enjoy! And please review, I love ego stroking!

_Brief Summary:_

Approximately eight thousand years before, the planets Miko and Hytor (Hytor Settlement) were blood enemies. The Mikolians drove the Hytorians to Ketrel, where they evolved into three species; the Mikolians thought that they had killed them all.

The Federation became involved with Ketrel in 2370. It was then discovered that they were all the same race. Later, Starfleet leaked this information to the Mikolians, not knowing that they were the Hytorian's enemy. A large Mikolian faction, known as the Hagan, led an uprising against the government, which started a two-year civil war.

Later, in 2372, the Hagan, after winning the war, tried to attack Ketrel, but Starfleet was there to defend the planet.

Ambassador Amen replaced President Aurik when he suddenly disappeared just after this incident. Amen had _Enterprise_ and several other ships "detained" and arrested Captain Picard. Riker and the other Captains plotted to attack the other ships and free themselves. Picard was assumed dead after this engagement.

Will and Deanna got married in 2370 a few months after Deanna discovered she was pregnant with his daughter, named Elizabeth "Liz" Troi Riker. Geordie developed an addiction to pain medication in 2370, but was able to overcome it. Riker assumed command with Picard's presumed death in 2372.

_Rating_: PG-13 (to be safe)

_Warnings_: (reasons for the rating) Character death and injury; some harsh language; some suggestive language; violence; suggested adult scenes (nothing over PG-13)

_Genre_: I don't know… Action/Adventure, Romance, Mystery (?), a bit of humor thrown in there, some angst… that might be it

_Pairings_: R/T; J/J (starts Year 3); K/O (suggested after Year 4)

_Summary_: Under the command of Riker, the _Enterprise_ and other ships have become renegades in the eyes of the corrupted Federation. How will they prove their innocence and remove the corrupt Earth President in the face of the media with limited resources and a tarnished name? How will this lead to intergalactic war? Sequel to _'Circle of Life' _Series.

_Disclaimer_: I own none of the characters, places, ships, or names that I borrowed from Startrek and Paramont. I do, however, own most everything else.

/-/-/-

**Year One: 2372**

"Captain's Log. Stardate, 37208.20.

"I know I haven't gotten around to doing one of these but… here goes…

"Uh, Enterprise returned to Ketrel to find the rest of our ships. They were all in bad condition at the time, but all willingly came with us. Data recalled that there is an old Federation post on the edge of the Federation-Klingon boarder; it was abandoned nearly three decades ago. Apparently they just hadn't gotten around to removing it.

"The crew has, unofficially, dubbed the place 'Shadow Land'. Until we're able to repair our ships, I've decided this is the best place we have as headquarters. Hiding here, so far, is one of our only options… to be honest, I don't even know what another choice could potentially be.

"Repairs are coming along slower than we hoped but our supplies are being stretched as it is. Small scouting parties have gone in search of supplies, help, and information. So far they have found little in this region. But we have found enough that Geordie is confident he can have all major repairs done in eight weeks. Other, more minor repairs, may take anywhere from three to five additional weeks- that is if we can get the parts and tools.

"Hopefully we can remain undetected until repairs are complete. Thankfully, with what I've learned from my scouts, I don't believe they're looking for us just yet. And I hope it stays that way.

"Computer, pause recording." Riker sank down into his chair, scratching the back of his neck. He had one last piece that needed to be marked officially in his log… he just couldn't bring himself to talk about it.

Looking away from his computer, he looked around the ready room. He had sat there before, thinking that he was Captain… only because he also believed Picard to be dead. Only this time, unlike all those other times, he truly was.

Riker swallowed, glancing over at the fish. It was a wonder they were still in there after all that time. He rubbed his eyes, standing once again as he said,

"Computer, continue recording…

"During our engagement, the ship Captain Picard was on… the _Omega_… was destroyed, few lifepods could be detected before we had to leave the area… It is, um… it's uncertain whether or not Captain Picard survived. As of now, I have taken command of the _Enterprise_…

"Computer, end recording…"

/-/-/-/

/- **_August_**

"_In other news, today. Information about a group of renegade starships has just been released. Almost thirty ships have already defected and are claiming loyalty to the renegades- led by the _U.S.S. Enterprise, N.C.C. 1701-D._ This ship is currently under the leadership of Commander William T. Riker. _

"_Reports show that the crew mutinied, killing their previous Captain- Jean-Luc Picard. Several other mutinies have been suspected, loyal captains and officers being removed from their positions, but little direct information has been discovered as of yet. _

"_Authorities have been searching for these ships but have not been able to find any tangible leads. Anyone with any information on their whereabouts should contact Starfleet Headquarters on Earth. _

"… _We've received official word on the circumstances from Starfleet Command. Apparently the _Enterprise_ and five of her first followers were being escorted back to Earth after a misunderstanding led them to follow incorrect orders. The ships then violently attacked their entourage and fled. Our information suggests that many ships were destroyed and others disabled. We only have confirmation on the destruction of the _U.S.S. Omega._"_

The image of the petite red headed woman disappeared from the screen. President Amen turned to his companion, a large smile covering his face. "Well, what do you think?"

"It was all lies," Ken Smith commented.

"Oh? Well that's not true. It was the truth… we just gave it a slight tweak," he said, his voice playful in his glee.

"You feed them that information? What do-"

"Ken, Ken, my dear boy. This is politics… and war against Riker. If we want to be able to find, capture, and try these people, we'll need everyone's support to do it."

"You're brainwashing them to believe all this. To take your side and accept your take over," Ken shouted. His face was contorted with a mixture of fear and uncertainty. Already he had become a party to killing, but now he found himself amongst a conspiracy against the Federation.

"Don't worry, Ken. In the end, you'll see I was right," Amen said, rising and putting an arm around his shoulders.

/-/-/-/

/- **_Around the Same Time_**

Ambassador Troi shut off the news. Her ears couldn't believe what they had just heard. Riker and his crew had killed Jean-Luc…

She shook her head. She knew it wasn't true.

Unprovoked attacks against other Federation ships over a miscommunication- there must have been more to it. She just couldn't believe that it was possible; she knew those people on that ship.

But what would the Federation media be doing with such a report. Something must have happened, something that her sudden meeting might explain. But she couldn't begin to guess what it was.

She needed to speak with Riker… or Deanna. But if the authorities couldn't find them, she would never be able to find them on subspace. Nor could she alert them to anything going on.

Lwaxana sighed as she walked out the door, heading for her transport. She had no idea what might happen with the situation on Earth and with Amen, and now all this with the 'renegade ships'? And mutinies and murders? She couldn't comprehend what he might be planning.

/-/-/-/

/- **_A Few Days Later_**

"I'm sorry, Captain but… I just can't do it in that time with what I've got," Geordie complained as he moved about Engineering, occasionally being stopped by a passing Ensign or another engineer as they reporter this and that.

"Geordie, we're tight as it is, we need to move faster!"

"I can't, sir!" He yelled back, startling both himself and Riker. "I'm sorry. I've been working for three days straight… But we can't do it, Captain. Maybe we can bypass a few things scheduled or… something but we can't knock down the time by anything more than a day… and I don't think that would do us any good. We might as well stick to the schedule we've already made."

Riker watched him for a moment. He could just imagine what Geordie's eyes must have looked like underneath his VISOR; bloodshot and exhausted against the paleness of his pupil. Everyone was on edge; working hard to complete repairs, little supplies to work with. Energy was on conservation mode, leaving only emergency rations to eat. And insomnia was plaguing many.

"Alright, just try to make things… move faster," Riker said, bowing down to his Chief Engineer.

"Thank-you, sir."

Turning to leave, Riker stopped and looked over his shoulder at Geordie, who was also turning to leave and get back to his repairs. "And Geordie?"

"Yes, sir?"

"Get some sleep, let Data handle things down here for a while." Geordie hesitated a second, knowing how much he needed sleep but unwilling to leave his post. "That's an order, Commander."

"Yes, sir," he responded at Riker's good natured way of taking advantage of his higher rank.

Geordie waited until Engineering's doors slid close behind him before calling Data over to him. Once he knew the android knew what to do, he might then be able to sleep knowing everything was in good hands.

/-/-/-/

/- **_Around the Same Time_**

"Excuse me? Hello? Is anyone in here?"

Ken's voice echoed throughout the room as he stepped cautiously inside, his eyes sweeping around the biobeds of the morgue. He stepped farther in, his ears perking as they heard the scrapping of a chair on the floor.

"Yes, over here. Is there something I can help you with?"

Ken watched as a tall, jovial man stepped forward, his blonde hair pulled back into a short ponytail to keep it from his eyes and face. Ken's eyes looked over his Starfleet uniform, seeing that the man was obviously a doctor there.

"Yes. I am Ambassador Smith, here on behalf of the President."

"Really?"

"Yes. Are you Dr. Tanith?"

"Why?"

"You are him then?"

"Yes."

Ken just smiled a wicked smile, nodding with satisfaction. "Good. I need to talk to you about… your allegiances."

/-/-/-/

/- **_Around the Same Time_**

"His actions were unjustified! He is making assumptions about the fate of President Aurik!"

Lwaxana looked to the Trill, one of the five delegates on the Federation Council. The renegades had been a short topic, one they had little knowledge and no solution to. Instead, the four had turned their attention back to the problem on Earth.

Lwaxana nodded her agreement. "Pell is right. Without evidence of Aurik's fate, there is nothing to say that he did not kill the President himself."

"And what are we to do about it? Without the knowledge of President Aurik's whereabouts, there is no one else to govern those on Earth," T'Pel spoke calmly, her words rising over the complaints of the others.

"He is next in line to take over for Earth's government," Pok, a Bolian male, said from besides T'Pel, the Vulcan casting a raised eyebrow in his direction.

"That may be so, but he did not go about it the correct way. He knows as well as we all do that he was supposed to have been inducted into his position- we gave no agreement, nor did those on Earth, for him to become President," Pell claimed, the Trill gazing boldly at the others, as if challenging one of the three to oppose her.

"It should have been voted upon, yes, but who would have chosen otherwise?" Pok questioned. "It is still a miracle that he wasn't voted into office as president, Humans love him so much."

"It doesn't matter how much anyone appears to like him, he did this incorrectly."

"And we will warn him of his actions, Ambassador Troi. He will receive notification that he must defend his actions, but it is apparent that nothing will be accomplished by such an undertaking. He is still in power over Earth in that sense, it matters little what we may or may not discover about President Aurik."

Pok nodded, agreeing once again with T'Pel. But Pell seemed less encouraged by the Vulcan's words. "And what do you expect to discover? If he did in fact dispose of Aurik to gain power, then we will never find evidence to prove such. On the contrary, I believe him quite capable of manifesting his own data to support himself- whether or not he was responsible for the President's disappearance."

Lwaxana raised her hand to stop their bickering. "We will send him notice. He will either prove his actions to the satisfaction of the Council, or he will be forced out of office and someone else appointed in his place. And that is the end of this."

/-/-/-/

/- **_Around the Same Time_**

Within an old, richly decorated building, activity hummed throughout. Consoles beeped, computers quickly and effortlessly worked as people watched on. The soft murmur of speaking echoed in the room, the same people walking about.

But things were not running as smoothly within the President's office…

Amen's fist slammed down on the table, causing a fierce rattling of the objects on top of it. His anger gleamed in his eyes.

"Sir, this is to be expected. Your sudden take over has unnerved the other Federation planets. A notice like this… telling you to step down or prove your actions was bound to show up. We knew this," Ken Smith assured him, his voice displaying his own fear of the angered man.

"I don't care! This… this… _thing_ is outrageous! They may as well admit to believing that I killed the President!"

"Please, sir, calm yourself. We can easily prove to them that our take over was legal. It was all planned out before anything was set into motion. Do not worry. I can present this to them, show them to trust you," Ken told him, his sickening smile taking over his face.

Amen took one look at his face and instantly responded, "Fine. Collect what you need. You leave as soon as you've got it."

"Yes, sir." With that, Ken scurried from his place at Amen's side and out the door.

/-/-/-/

/- **_Around the Same Time_**

Liz stumbled on, walking stably through the halls of the station. The girl giggled as she hid behind an old school desk. The young Betazoid listened, hearing the calls from her "babysitter".

"Where did you go, Elizabeth?" She giggled once again when she heard his call, as if she thought he was the dumbest person in the galaxy.

"Elizabeth?" The man called, Liz just watched as he stepped into the old classroom. He walked slowly, his eyes scanning everywhere. Liz just giggled, shaking the desk by accident.

Then she shrieked with surprise, finding that the man was right in front of her. She craned her head up, seeing him stare down at her. Another burst of giggles washed over her as the man said:

"You must remain silent, you're laughing gives your position away." The girl looked curiously up at him as he picked her up. "It is time to return home."

"No more p'ay?"

"Not today."

The girl held onto his uniform shirt, trying to steady herself as he walked swiftly through the halls. Slowly Liz's hand reached out, tentatively touching his skin.

"Yes, Elizabeth?"

"Ata's face white," she stated, her chubby hand still touching his skin. "Ata's face cold."

"Yes, Elizabeth. That is because I am not like you- I am an android."

"An'oid?"

"An-droid."

"An'oid!" The girl laughed and Data gave up on his attempt to correct her. "See daddy?"

"Yes. I have been instructed by your mother to ensure that he arrives back on the _Enterprise_."

"Mine see daddy?"

"'Will I see daddy', Elizabeth. Not 'mine'."

The little girl just starred blankly at Data a moment, before she repeated, "Mine see daddy?"

"Yes, you are going to see your father." Liz looked away from his face, watching instead the gray walls of the station as it went by, Data's long strides allowing them to arrive before long.

"Data? She wasn't too much to handle?"

"No, sir."

"That sounds like my angel," Riker smiled wider when he tickled the girl, Liz laughing and squirming in the android's arms.

"I was told to give her to you before I went on my shift."

"I assume it's Deanna's way to tell me to come home?"

Data inclined his head, saying, "I would assume so, sir."

Riker nodded, taking Liz from his first officer. "Thank-you, Data."

"It was my pleasure, Captain."

"Goodnight, Data." The android nodded, walking to the door when he saw that he was dismissed.

"'Night, Ata!" Riker smirked when the android paused, turning around as if to correct the child.

"Goodnight, Elizabeth," and with that he walked out, leaving father and daughter alone.

/-/-/-/

/- **_A Few Days Later_**

"Ah, Mr. Smith. I wasn't expecting you to be here so… prompt."

"Well, I said I'd be here… here I am. You do have what we discussed, do you not?" Ken asked, stepping closer to the doctor.

"Yes, yes. Just… just a sec."

Ken paused, watching the doctor scurry off into his office. The sound of PADDs falling to the floor rang in the Ambassador's ears as he waited. More PADDs were pushed around before the doctor seemed to find what he wanted. Ken just sighed, shaking his head.

"Everything you asked for is documented in here."

Ken nodded, taking the PADD. "Everything? Your personal admission to examining the body? DNA, everything?"

"Yes, everything. My thumbprint, too. Just so they know it's not faked… well it is but, they won't-"

"I- I know what you mean," the man interrupted him, skimming through the data. "Thank-you," Ken told the proud man, his back turned.

"I'm glad I could help. Uh… oh, and the rest will be done… soon." Tanith's smile shrank away as he watched the shadowy man.

"Good to hear," Ken said, putting the PADD into his pocket.

"About that payment you mentioned…"

"I haven't forgotten, Doctor. Not in the least."

"Just when do I get it?"

"Don't worry, it's all being taken care of. Trust me." Ken smiled, flashing his dimples to the doctor. Tanith nodded, watching the man go.

/-/-/-/

/- **_Around the Same Time_**

Deanna slumped into her chair as she walked into her quarters, sighing with contentment as she relaxed. Her eyes slide closed for a second, wishing for her body to be granted sleep for just a moment. But she was disappointed when she wasn't.

Instead, she opened her eyes, looking in front of her to see a year old framed picture on her coffee table. A smile tugged at her lips as she leaned forward to grab it. The picture was one of herself on Betazed, accompanied by Will, Liz and her mother. Mr. Homn had probably taken the picture.

They were in the Taria forest, surrounded by large, Betazed shrubs and trees. The Katai Waterfall was right behind them, leaving them in its cool mist. Deanna's smile grew as she recalled Liz swimming the small lake. Though she was only a year at the time, she had swum many hundreds of times on the holodeck. The poor girl was so concerned when the water didn't disappear.

Deanna's eyes slipped close once again, recalling the feel of the Betazoid sun baking her skin and the feel of the light breeze flowing through her hair. And, if she thought hard enough, she could even make out the sweat smell of a Ma'lon flower.

She grinned remembering how her father always brought her mother, and sometimes herself, Ma'lons. And could just barely recall how she would always stop to smell the purple flower when she was a child. Even to that day, her mother kept Ma'lons growing in the garden, a remembrance of her father.

Deanna's eyes opened and she just starred at the picture for a while. Recalling how she would simply sit there and work, or play, throughout her life. It was a place she had often brought Will to in their youth.

Deanna sighed; she missed her home terribly. The smile grew fainter as she reached out, running her hand along the picture. Yellow Ibis surrounded them, the leaves dotted with the purple fruits they produce.

The picture was that of the last time they had been there, taken a year ago. It had been nearly six months since Lwaxana had seen Liz, and the girl had grown so much; Lwaxana had missed so much of her life. She only worried that, with what was going on, her mother might not see her granddaughter for a long time.

Deanna just sighed and put the picture down.

/-/-/-/

/- **_A Few Days Later_**

"Ah, Mr. Smith, I had hoped that your ship had been attacked by Klingons," Lwaxana said dryly, a fake smile gracing her features as she walked out of the council chambers, her eyes catching the sight of Ken Smith as he walked through the corridors.

"Why, Ambassador Troi, I never knew you cared."

"Don't you wish? This way," she told him without further explanation, retracing her steps and walking back into the large, well furnished chamber. Betazoid silks and material lined most of the seats, furniture, and walls. Drapes covered the windows but allowed ample light to shin into the room, the artificial lights left without a job.

Lwaxana continued to walk to the head of the table. Ken stood dully at the other end, the others at the large table looking down at him. He looked over each of them, remembering them easily for he had worked with them all.

A Vulcan sat to the right of Lwaxana, her impassive face easy to recognize as T'Pel. A Bolian sat across from her, his blue face large and practically indistinguishable from any others, but Ken still knew him as Pok. And then there was a face he hadn't thought he'd be seeing ever again…

A beautiful female Trill sat next to Pok, back straight as poise as she sat in her chair. Her hair was long and brown, braided carefully on her head with the ends flowing freely on her back. With her hair pulled back, her spots were easily visible, running down until they hit material and vanished from the wandering eye. Her hazel eyes watched him indifferently, waiting for him to take his seat and begin.

"Well, well, well. I never thought I'd see you again Pell Lynn," he said to the joined Trill, moving to take his seat.

"I had hoped never to see you, either," she retorted, making it painfully obvious she wished nothing to do with him.

"Please, Mr. Smith, you can being whenever you feel like it," Lwaxana told him.

Ken gave her an annoyed smile as he pulled five PADDs from his pouch. Sliding four of them down the table. The respective person took it and looked over what was on it.

"This is your evidence?" Pell spat, tossing the PADD back onto the table, glaring at him.

"All I see here is a bunch of nothing," Pok complained, he too setting down the PADD.

"Well then, Pok, I'll explain it to you. On here is the evidence that we did, indeed, find the body of President Aurik. It was, unfortunately, burned beyond recognition. We had an expert run dozens of scans to make sure that is was the President." Ken told them this calmly, not quite to the extent that he had rehearsed it, but enough that it caused Lwaxana's eyebrow to raise.

"Mr. Smith, it is the understanding of this Council that it is up to President Amen to present his proof that he took the right course of action. This, though something of what we were looking for, is not enough to sway our beliefs. Unless-"

"I'm sorry, Ambassador, but I had not finished," the Human said with a smirk, picking up his PADD. "There's also the Federation Constitution. Article X, Section VI, Subsection A, states that President Amen did do the lawful thing by taking over as President when the sudden disappearance of former President Amen took place."

"And why haven't you already put this in your news? I noticed that there's been a lot since Amen's take over," Pell commented, her voice neutral.

"It wasn't a 'take over'," Ken said, annoyance ringing in his voice.

"Whatever you say."

"And we haven't put it in the news because we wanted to be sure. We… still don't know who did it or why or if he did it to himself. Plus we wanted you to know first hand rather than the exaggerated stories that run on the news."

"Of course," Lwaxana replied, Ken just snickering with her.

"President Amen will, of course, be notifying both the people of Earth and the Federation of the findings we have here. He would also be pleased to know if he could also announce his office status as President-"

"I'm afraid we can't agree to that just yet, Mr. Smith. Perhaps after this has been debated somewhat more."

Ken nodded, unsatisfied but in agreement with Lwaxana's words. "Well, if that's all you needed to know, I have to be going."

"Oh, so soon?" Lynn asked, her words complete sarcasm.

"I'm afraid so, I have… other things to attend to."

"Good-bye then, Mr. Smith. Please do hesitate to come back," Lwaxana remarked. Ken just gave another of his frustrated grins and turned to head out the door. "Oh, and Mr. Smith. I have a message I've been trying to get through to Tenana. You wouldn't happen to know how I could reach her? Do you?"

Ken's body tensed, freezing where he was. Rather than turning around and facing the telepath, he responded, "No, idea. I haven't seen her in a few days."

"What a shame. Good-bye then."

"'Bye." With that, Ken walked quickly from the room and for his transport home, moving as quickly away from all of the people around him as he could.

"What did you intend on accomplishing from asking your question?" The Vulcan asked, finally speaking.

"I already got what I wanted. The minute I mentioned Tenana's name, I was able to poke into his memory. He had been ordered to kill her, Vir, and Nila."

"He wouldn't have," Lynn complained.

"He didn't, but he did something to them. I just couldn't dig far enough," Lwaxana said, disappointed but somewhere.

/-/-/-/

/- **_A Week Later_**

Waiting in the dark corner of Epsilon III, a man waited patiently for something... someone. He watched the casual bustling of the many thousands of people- all hundreds of different species- as they moved around, each looking, purchasing, bargaining, and selling things in dozens of different open shops.

The air reeked of old fish and exotic food. Shops lining the streets sold spices, food, and other such things. The man just watched in disgust as he felt his growling stomach losing its appetite quickly, some of the things beyond words to describe.

His eyes again searched the crowd, looking out for his contact. He should have been there a few minutes ago. But then he was never on time. Never. The man had learned this and found waiting in hiding the extra few minutes was a good idea. But he had always been suspicious of why his contact was late always late.

Finally, the man's eyes spotted the Human he wanted. Slowly, he approached the lean man looking over some object at a Dekarian's stand. He seemed almost like a potential buyer, but his Federation case would suggest that he had other business to attend to.

The man walked up to the Human, casually glancing at the items for sale, picking them up and looking them over. But, after a few minutes of that, he walked past the Human, heading for the same ally way he had been hiding in. His gaze never stopped looking over the objects, stopping here and there. It was the same for his contact.

Once they both made it to the ally, he looked at the case the Human held and said, "You got it?"

"Of course. But it was a rather high price."

The man nodded, understanding the risk the Human was constantly putting himself in. Reaching into his pocket, he handed over a small computer link-up chip.

"I'll see you later then," the Human said, handing over the case. "What do you need with all of these power packs anyway?"

"We're short on supplies. We need to be able to replicate more. Thank-you." The Human nodded and moved easily back into the flow of the crowd, careful to avoid the shops he had been at earlier.

The man in the dark clothes knelt down and opened the case. Just as he had asked, five hundred power packs. That should last them for some time.

/-/-/-/

/- **_Around the Same Time_**

"_In other news today, the body of former President Aurik was recently found and identified as his,"_ the reporter said, catching Riker's ears.

"Computer, increase volume."

The computer made a faint beep before the brunette woman continued, louder. _"The body itself was burned beyond recognition but genetic tests have confirmed that it is definitely the former President._

"_Authorities are still uncertain as to who murdered the President or if it was an act of suicide. Their best lead, as of now, is either the renegades or people on Earth supporting their cause. If you know-"_

The computer blinked off instantly when Riker's fist pounded on the button. Deanna walked out of Liz's room, sensing his distress.

"Will? What's wrong?" She asked, walked up behind him. Her arms slid around his waist, her cheek resting upon his shoulder as she tried to calm him.

"The news just reported that they found President Aurik's body. Burnt to death."

"You don't think he's really dead?"

"No. The reporter announced that their only leads are the "renegades" or someone "supporting their cause". At this rate, they might as well just blame us for the destruction of the universe. It'll happen one of these days, who knows, we just might do it," Riker complained, both furious and frustrated with the way things had been going. "This isn't just propaganda, this is full-out lies to make everyone believe him."

Running his hands along her arms, a sigh escaped his lips. He wouldn't stoop to their level but they had to get noticed if they were ever to tell people the real story. Which would be made hard because of the news against them.

"Daddy! Daddy?" Liz shouted, scampering out of her room and running up to her father's leg.

"Yes, sweetie?"

"You read story? Peas?"

Riker smiled, remembering what had been his only sanity lately. She could warm a Klingon's heart without trying after only one look in her chocolate brown eyes- just like her mother's.

"Sure, honey. Which one is it tonight?"

"Um… me go look." With that, she ran back into her room. The child returned seconds later, the PADD large against her small body. "This one!" She shouted, handing him the PADD.

Riker looked at it and chuckled softly. It was the same one she had made him read for the past month. He had it practically memorized by then. "You really like this one, don't you?"

"Come on, daddy!" She told him, pulling on his pant leg as she tried to pull him into her room.

"I'm coming. I'm coming." He broke away from Deanna with a quick kiss, allowing himself to be dragged away by his two-year-old daughter.

/-/-/-/

/- **_Around the Same Time_**

Amen looked over at Ken, the man sighing as he looked out at all the reporters.

"You look tense, kid." He just shrugged, not answering. "Don't worry about it. Trust me."

The President smiled, chuckling slightly at the young man. Then he just shock his head, looking as he stepped out into the room of reporters, all the while running what he wanted to say through his mind.

"Good day to the people of Earth, and all others out there watching this," Amen greeted, a smile on his face as the reporters flocked around him, their sudden cries for attention as they shouted out their questions filling the large room.

"President Amen!"

"Why did you take over?"

"What happened to President Aurik?"

"What are you planning to give to the Earth and Federation?"

Amen pointed to a female reporter, her face blocked by a camera. "President Amen, is it true that the Federation Council are trying to kick you out of your position?"

Amen put a smile on his face, laughing as if her words were absurd. "No, they are simply trying to… figure out what has been happening here."

"And what exactly is that?" One of the reporters shouted, but he was ignored.

Instead, Amen pointed to a young, male reporter. "What do you say to the reports of President Aurik's dead body?"

"It is true. A Dr. Tanith, a mortician for Starfleet Medical, examined the body himself. He has determined that the body found was most definably former President Aurik."

"President-"

"President Amen," a reporter called, "How true are the reports that it was renegades that did this?"

Amen nodded his head, saying, "At this moment, that's not even close to certainty. There are no leads as to who might have done this, but we believe that, considering the conflict in interests between Riker and the renegades, it might have been them who did it. They certainly had the motive."

"And what of the rumors that President Aurik committed suicide?"

"Unknown. It is also a possibility," Amen said, looking around at the reporters. "I personally had noticed his slightly more… depressed state the past few months. I, however, had assumed it was the pressures of his presidency. But," Amen shrugged, looking to the next reporter.

"What about the Federation Council? Is it true that they require you to appear before them, presenting your evidence and justify your take over, in order to be officially announced as President?"

Amen nodded, glancing over at Ken. "Yes, that's true. Ambassador Smith has already informed the Council of our findings and my case. I will be arriving on Betazed in nine days."

"President-"

"What-"

"How will you respond-" rang throughout the room, the reporters shouting out their questions. Amen just raised his hand, quieting them some.

"That's all for now. You're all invited to be on Betazed to report what goes on there. Thank-you."

/-/-/-/

/- **_A Few Days Later_**

Commander Riker sat, sulking, leaning back in his chair. He much preferred sitting in the Space Station Ready Room as opposed to the _Enterprise_'s; he just never felt comfortable there. It was like he was taking over for Picard in a way he didn't feel was right. It just…

Running a tired hand over his face, he looked up to see his Imzadi walk inside. He gave her a quick smile before looking back down at the PADD in his hands. Solutions seemed impossible at that point… everything just seemed to get worse.

"Will, it's nearly 0200 hours. Come home and get some sleep," she begged him, her voice equally as tired as he felt.

Riker shook his head and looked at her. "I can't, Deanna. I still have a lot of work to do."

"Captain Picard _always_ had more work to do. It was my job to ensure that he slept and it is mine to tell you to _go to bed_." Through her speech, Deanna moved closer to Riker, finally stopping behind him. She rested her hands on his shoulders, rubbing them gently.

Riker closed his eyes, relaxing into her touch. Moaning softly in pleasure, he looked over his shoulder at Deanna. "You really know how to persuade a guy, don't you?"

"It's a gift. Now come on, I want to go to sleep." Riker smiled and looked back down at his stack of PADDs. "And those do not come with us. Leave them here, they'll still be here in the morning."

"By then the reports will be different, but what the heck?" He stood, commenting, "I'm starting to lose my ability to read, anyway."

/-/-/-/

/- **_Around the Same Time_**

Dr. Tanith sighed, rubbed his hand over his face nervously. He leaned back in his chair, using his knees to keep him balanced, as he gazed sightlessly at the screen. Something was missing…

"The time is 1400 hours."

His knee jerked in shock, having not anticipated the computer's sudden announcement. "Holy-" He started as his hand reached out to steady himself.

"Did you know some Bolians believe using anything holy in vain will keep you from entering the afterlife?"

Tanith's hand rested over his heart, Ken's first word startling him for a second time. "Don't… do that!"

"I'm sorry," he said with a smirk as he walked into the man's office. A look of disgust was hidden just under his mask of indifference. "So how is everything? Well, I hope."

Tanith nodded absently as he walked over to a cupboard over his counter. "Yes. Almost done."

"Good… good… what's that?"

Tanith glanced over his shoulder just before something he had taken off the self. "Vulcan herbs. They're for my heart."

"Your heart?"

"Yes, I've always had a weak heart. There's never been anything they could do about it. Tragic, really. I could never play any sports or anything-"

"Really? How awful. Well then, I'll see you in a few days."

"Then I'll- I'll see you in a few days."

Ken just nodded, hiding his scowl. And then he turned and walked away, Tanith silently watching distantly as the other man left his office.

/-/-/-/

/- **_Around the Same Time_**

"_President Amen announced yesterday that he would be appearing before the Federation Council in two standard weeks, able to present facts that the body found was in fact President Aurik's. He will also be giving us all the facts over his take-over._

"_In other news-"_

Riker ordered the computer to stop the recording, rubbing the back of his neck as he thought. His gaze drifted over to the Captain standing behind him.

Captain Jayton of the _Roddenberry _watched him carefully as he waited for a reaction from the man. Jayton might have outranked him, but he agreed with the others that it should be the _Enterprise _leading the way, which meant there could be only one man to lead them.

Riker just sighed, his face unreadable but his eyes a frenzy of thoughts and emotions. Jayton had brought the recording, knowing the Captain should see it. Knowing that they needed to stop it, and it seemed Riker realized that as well, he just wasn't sure what to do about it.

"Thank-you, Jayton. I'll give this some thought. Don't hesitate to give ideas."

"Right, Will." The man nodded, glancing at Riker once before he headed out the room.

Riker dropped down into his chair, his head falling into his hand. He rubbed at his eyes, thinking, 'What would Captain Picard do?'. What would Picard do in his situation? He could stop it, that Will knew. He would fight to redeem them, to expose what had happened.

But what had happened? What was going on with President Amen's campaign for power? Will didn't know, and really he didn't care. He just wanted his life back. He wanted to stop turning on the news and hear about how he had done something once again- most of it things he hadn't heard of until then.

What would Picard do? Walk in and announce himself to the Council? Force them to hear what he had to say? Make them listen to him?

Or would he be more furtive? Would he violence over diplomacy? Was that what Picard would see fit to do?

Riker shook his head, scratching his neck as he stood from the imprisoning chair. No, the real question was…

What was Captain Riker going to do about it?

/-/-/-/

/- **_A Week Later_**

Standing against the darkened wall, he hid his face in the shadows, observing the crowd as they passed by. His eyes scanned over the faces, watching for the right one. Time passed slowly in his mind as he did this, growing more impatient as he counted the seconds.

The man's hands slipped into his pockets as he stepped out of the shadows and into the main alley. The smell of smog was stronger there, a natural element of the planet. It took his sometime before he felt like he was breathing properly.

His head turned, looking from right to left before he turned into traffic. It was still dark, even in the late hours of the morning, and made it harder to see anyone's face. It was a wonder that he ever found his contact.

The man scowled. He hated that place. Why they always had to meet there, he didn't know. It was crawling with thieves and murderers. He was more liable to be shot and mugged than spied on by anyone. Then again, that was probably why.

A young blonde man caught his eye. There he was- five minutes late, like usual. The Human knew he varied when they met just to be sure, but it was damned annoying. He grew later and later with each meeting. Some days, if not under orders, the man was tempted to leave without whatever he had to offer.

He walked closer to the Human, never acknowledging that he knew him. The Human glanced over at him, giving him an appraising look. The man nodded at him, acting as if he were nodding at the object in his hand.

The Human walked next to him, stopping and setting down the brief case in his hand. Carefully he picked up a few objects, observing them before casting them a side. The man watched from the corner of his eye.

He had been told that, this time, there would be no verbal communication. It was clear what his contact wanted.

He waited, continuing to check the objects and inspect them, keeping his face sincere, as if he were an interested buyer. After a moment of that, he bent down and grabbed the case.

No one would notice such an act, for they had learned through their careers not to see much anything than what interested them. Of course, the man knew, they could be offered enough money to loosen their lips and strengthen their memories. Just as easily as more could do the opposite.

The man turned causally, strolling away. He never once glanced back at the Human as he left the god-forsaken planet.

/-/-/-/

/- **_Around the Same Time_**

As the rest of the senior staff and Captains shuffled out of the briefing room, Deanna stood and faced her husband. Like the others had reluctantly agreed to his plan, she too had agree somewhat as well. But she felt the need to convince him otherwise.

"Terrorism, Will?" Deanna asked, her voice uncertain and disbelieving.

Will gave a grim smile as he approached his wife. Taking her shoulders in his strong hands, he said, "Deanna… this may be all we can do right now. We know what they're about and we need to stop them. But, right now, I won't even consider a full out attack."

"But terrorism? Will…" She trailed off, leaving the note with only a shake of her head.

"I know. But we can't let him show them what he's going to. We can't let it be broadcasted. If it is… who knows. For now, that's all we'll do."

Sighing, Deanna nodded- not daring to look him in the eye. She knew that he was right, that they needed to do something. But terrorism? Was that the answer? It went completely against Federation policy to deal with terrorist. Definably to become one. But, perhaps under their situation, they couldn't follow Federation law anymore if they expected to accomplish anything that needed to be done.

Will put a gentle hand under her chin and lifted her eyes until they met his. Kissing her forehead, he whispered, "I hate this as much as you do but…"

"It's the only solution at the moment. I know. Come on, we have to get ready." Taking his hand, she led him away from the old briefing room.

/-/-/-/

/- **_Around the Same Time_**

"Daddy!" Riker heard the squeal of his two-year-old daughter. Turning away from his Chief Engineer's briefing, he saw, with a smile, Commander Data escorting her down the hall. Her hand had been holding his, but, when she saw her father, she instantly let go and ran for her father. Riker bent down, scooping up the little girl into his arms.

Riker looked mournfully at his daughter. He hadn't had time to spend with her in the past few days, as he was constantly caught up with repairs and other things. His mind, so wrapped up with a million things, almost didn't hear Data saying, "I apologize, Captain. But she was quite insistent in her desire to see you"

That's all right, Data." Turning his attention back to Liz, he asked, "Have you been a good girl for Data?"

His question was met with the vigorous shaking of Liz's head. Her short, curly hair bounced and fell into her eyes. "I be a really good girl."

"She was, indeed, very compliant, Captain. The only trouble I had with her was trying to persuade her against disturbing you," Data interjected.

"I should go, Captain," Geordie interrupted, giving Liz a teasing poke. She swatted his hand away- as always- returning his grin with her cute dimples.

"Alright, Geordie."

"I should go, as well," Data stated, looking at the retreating form of his long time friend.

"Actually, Data, I want to talk to you." Still holding onto Liz, Riker began walking toward the turbolift, making it obvious that Data was to follow. "As I'm sure you know, I still haven't appointed a first officer under me," Riker began, trying to find the best words to say what he wanted. "You're the best suited for the job, everyone knows that. And, considering the newest mission I'll be going on, I need one."

Data and Riker halted at the entrance to the turbolift, waiting for the lift to arrive. Riker turned to the android, looking him straight in the eye when he said, "Which is why I'm giving you a field promotion to Commander and appointing _you_ as my first officer."

Data showed little emotion- his emotion chip having been deactivated for the past few days. Riker knew that, though he had not been apparently apprehensive about the position, he had been quite curious about the situation.

"Thank-you, Captain. I appreciate it."

"You deserve it, Data. Just remember, I want an operational ship by the time I get back," Riker said, sarcastically, just as the doors opened.

"Aye, sir."

Riker grinned, shaking his head as they turned the corner. He shifted Liz, his arms just beginning to feel the weight of his daughter. He looked at her, feeling her head lift from his shoulder, where it had been for the past few minutes.

"Daddy go bye-bye?" She asked, her eyes filled with horror at the prospect of her father leaving.

"Yes, daddy and mommy have to go bye-bye. But just for a few days. Then we'll be back home," he told her gently, trying not to upset her too much. He had forgotten how his and Deanna's departure would do to Liz. Something he should have considered. But his guilt was forgotten when Liz replied with:

"Liz no go bye-bye, too?"

"No, you can't come with us."

"Why?"

'Why?', a phrase she loved and said about almost everything. But this time, this time she said it with such sincerity.

"Because… because it's not somewhere we can take you right now." Liz normally repeated her question several times, never truly satisfied with any answer. But, this time, she just laid her head back down, a pout on her face.

Riker sighed, looking over to Data. If the android had listened to the conversation, he showed no outward signs of it.

"Captain?"

Riker stopped, Data along with him, as they turned to see a Lieutenant Commander walking towards them. Riker's eyes swept over him quickly, trying to decide if they had met before. The young, brunette officer, though, didn't seem familiar. "Yes?"

"Lieutenant Commander Mathew Tette, sir," the man announced, stopping just in front of them.

"You're Captain Jayton's tactical officer."

"Yes, sir," he said with a curt nod, shifting a small bag on his shoulder.

"Did you get it alright?"

"Yes, sir. This bag is lined with a deuterium alloy. Their sensors shouldn't detect anything," Tette informed Will as he handed over the bag.

Riker glanced at Data as he slide the strap over his shoulder. The Captain easily knew his look as on of mild curiosity. He could almost see the gears working behind his eyes as he deduced what could possibly be hidden in the tan sack.

"Thank you, Commander. Good job."

Tette nodded once again, looking to the Captain. He smirked as the little girl in his arms waved shyly at him, cuddling into her father's neck even as she did so.

"Good luck, sir." Tette pivoted around, walking away at his normal, swift pace, smiling as he heard the girl whisper, "Bye!"

/-/-/-/

/- **_A Few Days Later_**

"Calm down, kid, or you'll wet yourself," Amen teased, slapping the man on his back with a laugh.

Ken turned shyly to look at him, his back tensing at the sight of the President's large grin. "Sorry. I'm just… nervous."

"What about? We've got this all wrapped up, like you said, we're as good as gold. Everything is going well… better than that. No one will ever be the wiser, kid. You just stay on top of everything and keep your mouth shut."

Ken nodded mutely, looking away from the new President and out the window. The man was sick, as far as he was concerned. And, quite frankly, he scared the crap out of Ken. But he was power hungry, and was now in a position to get Ken wherever he wanted. All he had to do was keep quiet.

Keep quiet? After everything he had become privy to? He may have been a jerk and smug and acted like he was omnipotent. But he wasn't- hadn't been at the time and never would be. Even then he may have acted cold hearted and untouchable, but he wasn't.

The things he was starting to do- had doe and knew he would do- were wearing down on him. They were hard to do and hurting him. He hated it.

"Ken. Kenny-boy… don't fret over this. Okay? I've got it all worked out, kid," Amen said with his sick smile, Ken's own no competition for it. His hand pat the cushion next to him, saying, "Take a seat. Relax, kid."

Ken sighed, looking down at his feet. He hated Amen, hated his work and his plan and everything about him. But, what he hated the most, was how Amen could use that sly voice of his and send shivers down his spin, reducing his cocky confidence to nothing but spineless muttering. He hated it- it was like he was a child intimidated by his teacher.

Ken shuffled his feet along the floor, plopping himself down on the couch, practically sitting on the armrest to stay as far away from Amen as he could.

"Now, Ken, I have something I want you to do…"

/-/-/-/-

_Author's Note: _Well, I thought I'd share with you a bit of history on this story. Way back in May of 2003, I was finishing grade seven, I began this first part of this story called "Circle of Life: When In Need". Five months later, I had started grade eight and the last of it was posted and I was well on my way into writing the next part. Somehow, for some reason, I got it into my head that a twenty year story, each year as one chapter, would be a fun idea. So I start mapping this story out, figuring out what each year will contain… I find out that I don't have enough ideas to even fill each year. So I pretty much went "shit, I can't do this" and gave up.

And then, the summer of 2004, something happened. I return home from a vacation, and I got some insane amount of reviews from someone who has become something of a friend of mine. I'll admit, I started reading her reviews and had no idea what she was talking about. I had to go and reread my own story just to remember! And, only because she reviewed EVERY SINGAL chapter, I had to respond (this was back in the days before we had that handy respond button-thing. Wow! I know, never thought I'd be able to use that phrase either). So anyway, she got me thinking enough to go back and give it all a second shot.

So, from the dusty corners of my computer, I pulled up all my notes and began playing around with them. Twenty years dropped to seventeen, which dropped to fifteen, and there it stayed. And then, slowly, I began to come up with a more complete picture of Year 1 and, eventually, it was done. And so on and so on… until suddenly it was Spring Break of grade eleven… and it was done.

So, if anyone cares to do the math, I started this journey in May of 2003 and have now completed it in April of 2007. Mind you, there were a couple of breaks and some horrific moments of writer's block (many moments, I should say, one that last five months :( ).

Well anyway, what this really long rant is trying to say is that I've had a lot of fun, even after all this time and effort and frustration, and I'm glad that I finally get to share it with you. So to any of my original readers who have once against stumbled upon this story, I hope you enjoy where this story has gone and, for all those who review, I have a new pack of virtual stickers waiting to be handed out :). And to the new readers, I hope you enjoy it as well. Keep a look out for the next chapter!


	2. Year 1: 2372, continued

_Author's Note: _Hey there! Thanks to all who reviewed- I was worried after all this time, no one would read it! I know, stupid fear. Anyway, here's the second part of Year 1. Hope you enjoy!

/-/-/-

**Year One: 2372**

"Let me take those, sir."

Will handed over the two bags, holding them out for his pilot to take. "Thank-you. Start her up, we'll be in in a second."

The Ensign just gave a nod, heading into the shuttle. Will turned back to his wife, his daughter held snuggly in her arms. Liz's blonde hair hung over her eyes, her blue eyes starring at him from underneath.

Will sighed, forcing a smile to his lips. Pushing away the soft locks, he placed a gentle kiss on the girl's forehead. "I love you, sweetheart. I promise we'll be back soon."

A pout formed on her lips at the mention of his leaving. "Daddy stay?"

Riker's head shook slowly. "We can't, honey."

Deanna stroked her back, kissing her hair. "We'll come back, Lizzy. Real soon. Until then, you be a good girl for Aunt Bev, okay?" Liz's chin rubbed against Deanna's shoulder as the little girl nodded. "I love you."

"Tov oou," she mumbled against Deanna's shoulder, her small hands wrapping around Deanna's neck. Beverly reached out her hands, taking Liz in her arms. "No!" She moaned, tears coming to her eyes as she squirmed to get out of the doctor's hands.

"Hey, hey." Will kissed her temple again, rubbing her back. "We'll see you in a few days."

"Bye, honey. Be good."

Will snaked his arm around her waist, walking her away from their child. Deanna looked back just before they stepped up the ramp, smiling somberly at Liz before the door closed behind them.

Liz turned in Beverly's arms, her eyes following the shuttlecraft as it navigated out of the bay. "Bye-bye," she whispered with a sluggish wave.

The doctor sighed, rubbing the child's back. Liz leaned back, resting her head against Beverly's chest, her eyes rimmed with tears.

/-/-/-/

/- **_Around the Same Time_**

Hidden under a long, flowing robes, a young woman of thirty or so walked easily through the streets. With her travel pack slung over her shoulder, she moved away from her transport ship. Acting like a weary traveler, she moved with purpose and pretended to belong, her feet operating on autopilot as they quickly brought her to her old house.

A man exited the full transport just after her, yet headed in the opposite direction. He acted calmly and walked with a neutral pace- appearing to need to be nowhere while hiding how desperately he did. His clothing suggested he held status as a Human representative- meaning there was little he couldn't get away with, as long as he did it right.

Carefully clearing his mind, he moved smoothly through the people. He walked as if curious, glancing here and there at everything yet seeing nothing. Though he was tempted to chance a glance at the woman, he acted unfazed, walking at his neutral pace. His eyes kept high as he walked toward his destination.

/-/-/-/

As Ambassador Lwaxana Troi hustled about her house as she prepare for a meeting. Though it was not as important as the one the following day, it was the introduction. Herself, Amen, and several other Federation Ambassadors would convene to finally talk out their situation.

The door chimes did little to halt her as she headed to get a drink before she left. But only at first. When the second chime sounded- showing her visitor's impatience- she called telepathically to Mr. Homes to answer. But she sensed that her personal servant was in no position to do so. Instead, she walked there herself.

Through her annoyance, she had forgotten to see who was there. Rather, she just opened the door, her eyes met with a lone figure hidden under white robes.

Without invitation, the robed figure entered, pushing past Lwaxana as the person dropped their bag inside the house. Despite Lwaxana's telepathic rants and shouting, the hidden figure closed the door.

The person turned, hooded face looking at the political figure. In a signal movement, the hood was suddenly removed. Her calm brown eyes starred into Lwaxana's startled ones.

Then all of Lwaxana's anger disappeared as she moved to embrace her daughter. "What are you doing here?" She asked, still holding onto her. "Amen has posted a warning that Riker and his fleet are fugitives. You can't be seen here… what if-"

"Mother, what would any Betazoid on this planet do if they did see Will or I? I'm sure someone would put a phaser to our heads and shoot," Deanna responded, sarcastically. "Really, Mother."

"_Will's with you? Where?" _Her mother asked, this time telepathically.

"_He's meeting one of our contacts. He will come here soon," _she responded, her eyes shifting over the house. _"Mother, we need your help."_

"_Deanna,"_ she said with a shake of her head, _"I don't know… things are shaky as it is between the Federation and Amen. I don't believe for a second what I've been hearing… but he has proof and I can't ever get a read on him. If I were to help you… What is it?"_

"_I need to get into the conference tomorrow. Will can already get in, now I need to."_

Lwaxana looked into her daughter's eyes for a long moment. She saw a determination she rarely saw, but it was there. Her heart ached for she did not know if she could help, not matter how much she wanted to. But Amen's proof would almost certainly be enough for the rest of the Council to believe him, what was she to say?

"_I'll try, Little One." _

Once, Deanna would have been annoyed by the old nickname. That day, however, it made her feel younger and unburdened by everything for just a moment. And, for just that moment, it seemed that she could pretend that she was again a teenager living in the large, luxurious house.

"_I must go to a meeting now, but I will be back in a few hours. I will see you then." _A quick hug was exchanged between the pair before Lwaxana exited through the large doors, Deanna just standing there.

/-/-/-/

/- **_Around the Same Time_**

"Hey, baby-doll. Did you have a nice nap?"

The little girl giggled quietly as Beverly picked her up by the armpits. Resting her arm under the girl's butt, balancing her on her hip, she walked away from the biobed she had made into a bed for the girl.

Liz rested her head on Beverly's shoulder, her hand falling on her chest, gripping the extra material of her lab coat. "I'm glad that you're never grouchy when you wake up. It must be great for your mom and dad."

Brown eyes meet hers as she gazed disinterestedly at the doctor. Sighing she looked away, wiggling in Beverly's hold. "Down? Down?"

"Not in here, honey. Remember? You can't run around in here." The girl stopped fidgeting, allowing Beverly to push her back onto her hip.

Liz's eyes scanned over the sickbay, brown eyes soaking in everything there was to see. "Look! Look! Man sick."

Beverly smirked; twisting herself so that she was facing away from the console she was at, trying to follow Liz's finger. A younger Lieutenant was sitting on the biobed across the room, one of her nurses giving him a hypospray. "Yes, he has a tummy ache."

"Yeah. A tummy ache."

Beverly grinned wider, quickly turning back to her console and uploading her report into the computer.

"Mine have snack?"

"You're hungry?" Beverly teased, tickling her stomach, the girl's giggles filling the room. "Computer, time?" she asked when Liz calmed some.

"The time is 1541 hours."

Beverly nodded to herself, glancing around. "Anna? Could you cover my last twenty minutes?"

"Of course, Dr. Crusher."

"Thank-you so much, I just need to get her out of here."

"It's not a problem."

"Thanks again. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Bye-bye," Liz sighed, her pudgy hand waving.

"Bye, sweets," the nurse said with a smile, waving at the two of them.

"So, what snack do you want?"

"Ice ceam!"

Beverly smirked. "What flavor?"

"Chocolate!"

"I should have guessed."

/-/-/-/

/- **_Around the Same Time_**

Lwaxana's hand hesitated over the door, as if debating if she should make her appearance. She knew for a fact that Deanna was somewhere in the house, hiding probably. She imagined Holms knew she was there; he might be slow by he was a telepath.

Riker could possibly even be there. Holms may have found out then that they were there. Riker, however intelligent and Imzadi with her daughter, could not have blocked his thoughts from her valet. She was surprised he even managed to survive more than an hour without detection-

Or had he been discovered? Found by some Starfleet officer loyal to the new government and turned in to the authorities. But, if he had, surely she would have been notified, right? Or would they have waited until she returned home, giving them more time to work him? Would they even tell her, given the fact that he was her son-in-law?

The thought worried her, but she would never know if she didn't enter. With a deep breath, Lwaxana walked in. Her thoughts instantly shifted as she took in her home's surroundings. Someone was in there, and it wasn't the three she was expecting.

She could hear a man's voice out on the back patio. He spoke slowly and deliberately, as if speaking to a retard or child. She shook her head, knowing he must be attempting to speak to Holms.

Walking out, it took no time to see that she was correct. Two young Starfleet officers- Humans, by the looks of it- were talking to Holms, the tall man towering over them, his chin practically on his chest to see them.

"What is this?" All three looked over at Lwaxana, her voice carrying to their ears. "Is there something I can do for you, Lieutenants?"

"Uh, yes, ma'am. You must be Mrs. Troi?"

"Yes. And what is that to you?"

"Um," the one squirmed, stepping closer to her, "We have been ordered to… inquire if you had seen Commander Riker."

"Commander Riker? Look, I may not agree with _President_ Amen and Riker may be my son-in-law, but that does not mean I'm hosting him in my house! Personally, I don't even like the man- he's arrogant, self-righteous, and annoying. I only agreed to the marriage because he got my daughter pregnant."

She took a breath, starring at the terrified young officer. "And now that you have frustrated me, I will ask you to please leave me alone. Good-bye, gentlemen."

The two looked at each other, agreeing mutely that they should leave. "Holms, show them to the door."

The pale man nodded, his movements more like a bow. The officers walked past her and through the door, Holms following behind them. _'They are in the garden.'_

Lwaxana made no gestures to say that she heard him, just starred at the tall grasses of the gardens. Holms walked past her, and Lwaxana waited until she heard him close the door before she walked away.

"Very lovely conversation."

The Betazoid turned her eyes onto the owner of the voice, no more startled than if she had been staring right at him when he spoke. "I didn't mean what I said, William."

He smirked, "Somehow I think you meant it."

"Will," Deanna scolded, peeking out through the flowers they had been hiding behind.

Lwaxana smiled sweetly, turning back to Will. She was only mildly surprised to see the golden brown ridges running from his temples down along his cheeks, disguising him as a Teyl. "It's good to see you again, William. I'm glad you're well."

He nodded. Then, with a sigh, he said, "There's a lot to talk about."

/-/-/-/

/- **_Around the Same Time_**

"Oh, I do so hate these dreadful things!" Amen exclaimed as he walked up to the shuttle.

"You hate flying?"

"I hate shuttles. Horrible machines, they are. Honestly, humans were just never meant to fly!" he said quietly as they stepped into the shuttle. "I hate it! If only they would come to us instead."

Ken shook his head as he walked behind the man, muttering, "It's amazing someone in this century can have such an opinion."

"I can have whatever opinion I wish, boy. Now hurry along. I want this to be over as soon as possible."

"It's not that bad, sir. It's really just leaving the atmosphere," Ken started, setting down in his chair, "And going to warp."

"I have been on a ship before, boy! I just don't like it, that's all."

"Sorry," Ken hissed, "Just trying-"

"Don't try, boy, do."

"Yes, sir," Ken muttered, rolling his eyes at the man.

"Why don't you go tell the pilot that we're ready to leave."

"Uh-"

"Go. I want to spend as little time on this thing as I have to."

"Fine." He pushed himself from the seat, walking slowly to the front of the shuttle.

"You could do that with the slightest of excitement!"

/-/-/-/

/- **_Around the Same Time_**

It wasn't long before Lwaxana and her newest quests had relocated to the safety of the house's dining room. Holms stood, silently pouring tea, as the other three sat around the table.

Riker sighed deeply, leaning back into his seat. "There was no misunderstanding, Lwaxana. President Aurik gave that order and Captain Picard followed it. Apparently it went against Men's opinion, but that didn't matter at the time."

"Amen sent officers who were loyal to him. They captured us, and we defended ourselves. We tried to do as little harms as we could," Deanna added, her mother focusing on each as they spoke.

"And Jean-Luc?"

Riker bowed his head, hearing the worry in her voice. For Amen's credit., Picard had been the only noble sounding heroes amongst the "renegade" ships. Lwaxana must have heard about his supposed murder.

Lwaxana looked away after a moment. She could sense the overwhelming feelings of loss and grief, even self-guilt in Riker's mind. It seemed inevitable that she would hear the news she was dreading.

"Captain Picard was taken onboard the _Omega_ as their prisoner."

"The _Omega_ was destroyed." Riker nodded, confirming her statement.

"It was an accident." The older Betazed looked to her daughter, but if she was trying to tell her or comfort Will, Lwaxana couldn't tell.

"Yes," Riker started, only to stop himself. He sighed, pushing himself out of his chair. "At this moment, Captain Picard is missing, assumed dead. I've taken command of the Enterprise."

"So, you're Captain Riker, now?" He just glanced at her, showing neither pride nor annoyance in her statement. Riker sighed, looking out the window.

/-/-/-/

"It's late. I'm going to go to bed," Deanna announced as she stood from the table. "Don't stay up much longer."

Will nodded, feeling his wife place a kiss on his cheek as she walked by him. He sighed, standing impassively in the large window, his hands clasped behind his back.

He could feel Lwaxana's eyes on him, watching and observing him as she had for many years. Long before as a young man, and later in his life as her son-in-law. And now was no different.

"What are you planning to do, Will?" came her inquiring voice, startling him with her suddenness. "You can't expect to be able to just walk in and speak your case?"

"Hardly," Riker sighed, lightly scratching the fake skin attacked to his face. "You recall the Ellasar?"

"The Frama resistance faction. On Ketrel?"

"Yes. Riker paused to look out the window, his eyes drawn to the sight of the tall ferns and plants. "We plan on using one of their kenetic bombs. We just have to keep him from showing his proof. Keep him from getting the public's support until we can prove him wrong."

"Will, you'll just lose more credibility. They'll blame you and your crew immediately. You know that?"

"Well, it won't be wrong. Lwaxana, they have proof- whether fabricated or not- that will sway the public's opinion of him. He'll be able to take full command, and the Council will be forced to let him."

Riker paused looking away once again. "My credibility is low, period, and will continued to drop with Amen's reports. At the moment, that doesn't mean much to me."

"And once you stop him today, what will stop him the next time? You won't be able to do the same thing."

Riker sighed. "I know. This time, we'll remove the evidence and erase it from the Betazed database."

"He can easily contact Earth."

Riker nodded. "I've installed a disrupter, Geordie invented it. It will interfere with any transmissions of that kind with a high ranking Federation signature. So, if he tried to download it… he won't get it."

Will twisted around to see the woman watching him. Cocking his head to the side, "I hope you weren't waiting for something."

"Fortunately, no." A smile was forming on her lips. She either thought his plan insane- as it was- or wholly amusing.

Riker sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. He still wasn't used to the changes Doctor Crusher had fabricated. He liked his skin the way it was. "He'll need to return to Earth to get it. Not to mention he'll be limping back there to recover. And investigating the attack and replanning a meeting will take weeks."

"Your point?"

"By the time a date is even set, we'll be in position to find out what's really going on."

/-/-/-/

/- **_A Few Days Later_**

Riker watched from a far as the proceedings went on. The delegates surrounded the long table, all but one utterly unaware of what was to happen in mere minutes.

His eyes caught Lwaxana's. On the outside, she was calm and elegant, her voice neutral and yet commanding as she spoke naturally to those surrounding her. But Riker could see her hidden fears buried deep behind her façade. She was afraid- not for herself but for her daughter and Riker.

She even seemed somewhat nervous. Lwaxana had experienced what was to happen once before, having been a victim of a plot very few knew of. But, somehow, Riker doubted this was the cause of her nerves.

She looked away, now attentively listening to Amen's narration.

"With the assistance of Lieutenant Commander Tanith, MD, we've discovered that former President Aurik died from extensive burns. Dr. Tanith's tests confirm both the identity of the body and that his wounds were self-inflicted."

Pell leaned forward looking to the president. "And you found the body how?"

"When?" Lwaxana asked.

"Two weeks ago. It was found in President Aurik's vacation home. It was extensively burnt-"

"Lately your news has followed this situation very closely. Why was this never in the media?"

Amen looked to T'Pel, his face blank and unreadable. "We wanted to wait to confirm our suspicions- this seemed like the best time to announce it to the public."

Riker took a deep breath, taking one last look at Lwaxana. She had agreed to stay, saying it would be too conspicuities if she wasn't there or walked out just before. He knew that she was right; he was just worried for her safety.

It was time to stop Amen from presenting what he had with him. He itched his cheek once again as he turned his back to the table of diplomats. His hand snuck under his robes, pulling out the diamond-like device.

He looked down at his hand, starring at the device. He took a deep breath, slowly letting it out. Turning around, he activated the device, hearing the camera clang against the floor.

/-/-/-/

/- **_At the Same Time_**

Captain Jayton sighed, pacing in front of his chair. Pausing, he turned to look at the view screen, seeing President Amen speaking.

"_With the assistance of Lieutenant Commander Tanith, MD, we've discovered that former President Aurik died from extensive burns. Dr. Tanith's tests confirm both the identity of the body and that his wounds were self-inflicted."_

_The camera turned to a Trill Ambassador. "And you found the body how?"_

"_When?"_

"_Two weeks ago. It was found in President Aurik's vacation home. It was extensively burnt-"_

Jayton sighed again, sinking into his chair. "What is Riker waiting for?" the Captain muttered.

"Just give him time, Captain," Tette calmed him, standing stoic behind his console.

Jayton nodded, hearing one of the diplomats speaking. And then suddenly the camera crashed to the floor. Had he not known what was going to happen, the man might have been startled by the occurrence.

"Finally."

They waited the screen, hearing the movement of someone's shoes against the floor. Suddenly the screen went black, all the sound stopping.

/-/-/-/

/- **_At the Same Time_**

Deanna slid through the door, closing it behind her. "Sorry. Didn't mean to startle you," she said as Will spun around.

"It's okay. What's going on out there?"

"They started to get worried when the camera man collapsed. It wasn't until they lost the signal-"

"Is anyone coming?"

"I volunteered, but you don't have much time before they come in."

Will nodded, already fast at work. "Did they recognize you?"

Deanna looked over to him, her hands filled with the PADDs that had lined the table. He sat at the room's console, focusing hard on the words in front of him. "No… I don't think so. I'm not as wanted as you, Will," his wife teased.

Riker spared a smirk for her, glancing up at her as she walked around the table. Deanna looked down, seeing her mother with her face flat on the table. "She'll be fine, Dee."

"I know. Are you almost done?"

"Jus-"

A loud pounding at the door stopped his sentenced, making them both look at the old door. "Hurry up!"

"I'm almost done," he called, quickly finishing at the console. Deanna turned away from him, searching the room for another way out. It was safe to assume that they would not accept any excuse they could invent and would be arrested if they managed to break in.

Her eyes caught the draped windows, immediately recalling where they were in the building. She pushed open the velvet curtains, looking out to see thirty meters of flat land in front of the Hyti forest.

Pushing open the window, she turned to Will. "We have to go."

"Just a second."

The pounding grew more frantic. "No, now, Will!"

"Hey! Open the door! What the hell's going on in there! Open up!" came the mass of yelling from behind the door, the wooden doors shaking with the ferocity of the pounding.

"Now, Will!"

"I'm done. Let's go."

The cracking of wood reached their ears just as they pushed the window closed. Will took her hand, pulling her with him as they ran for the large, Betazed trees.

/-/-/-/

/- **_At the Same Time_**

Data stood, pushing himself out of the Captain's chair. He looked at the viewscreen, wondering if anything else would be revealed to them. It had been three hours since the camera had stopped projecting to them.

He nearly sighed, his emotion chip forcing him to feel his anxiety. He was worried for his friends. What would happen to their child if they never returned? What would happen to the fleet and their rebellion if Riker was caught?

"Heard anything yet?"

The android turned to see the doctor exiting the turbolift, a tired girl in her arms. "Not since the transmission ended."

"Do you think… do you think they might have been captured?" The doctor walked up to the Commander as she spoke, glancing at the space station on the viewscreen.

"I do not believe so, Doctor. It is more reasonable to assume that they are either still trying to control the situation or do not wish their situation to be made public. Captain Riker and Counselor Troi are most likely still hiding and will contact us as soon as they are able."

The doctor nodded, settling into the Counselor's vacant chair, the girl making herself comfortable in the woman's lap, snuggling her face into Beverly's chest.

"How is Elizabeth doing with the current situation?"

"Amazingly well. She just misses her parents."

The girl looked up at them, realizing that they had been speaking about her. Her bright blue eyes settled on each person for a moment, and then turned to the rest of the bridge. She took in the people for a short time, only long enough to decide whether or not they were someone she was familiar with.

It took only a matter of minutes for her to settle back against Beverly's body, lulled by the rhythmic motions of her chest as she spoke.

"I just hope we hear something soon."

"As do I, Doctor. But I am afraid that, for now, all we can do is wait. And hope for the best."

/-/-/-/

/- **_A Few Days Later _**

"… _approximately one week ago, President Amen's conference with the Federation Council was cut dramatically short when a small group of terrorist incapacitated the Ambassadors, President, and news crew._

"_While all parties appear to be recovering quickly, President Amen has retreated back to Earth to fully recover from his injuries. He also wishes to ensure all Federation members that he is fine, and will recover soon. _

"_Starfleet and the Betazed officials have been looking into the security, attempting to find any clue that might lead to the attackers' identities. All they've said so far, is that they believe Commander Riker is responsible-"_

Riker switched off the screen, his breath coming out in a heavy sigh as he turned to the table. His hands grasped a hold of the chair as he waited for everyone to take their chairs. He looked over each face sitting before him. Deanna sat to the right, calmly watching him as she waited for him to begin. Across from her, Data sat straight in his chair appearing neither bored nor interested in the on goings around him.

Next to him were Captain Jayton and his first officer. Riker had barely seen the Commander before, and had never learned his name (it started with a "K" or something). As he looked him over, it was clear to see that he was a powerful, commanding man with his broad frame and dark face. The Captains and first officers of many other ships filled the other seats, each one looking to Riker for him to begin.

Taking a deep breath, he began, "As you all know, Counselor Troi and myself were in contact with Ambassador Troi while on Betazed. She told us that, in her opinion, the Federation Council will only listen to us, potential pardon us, if we present some kind of evidence."

"We can show them the video recordings from each of our ships. Show them what really happened," a younger Commander volunteered.

"While that would prove our claims- not to mention implicate us in conspiracy against follow officers- they probably won't accept that on its own," Riker stated, sliding into his chair.

"All video and/ or audio recordings have the ship's own signature on it. While that does help to prove it's origin, it can also be very easily faked by any onboard the particular ship," Data finished for his Captain, addressing the Commander in particular.

"To that end," Riker began, "I want to send a small team to Earth. We'll need a few people capable of digging up something to use against President Amen. Security and those with adept computer abilities."

"And who do you suggest we send?"

"Counselor Troi, for one, will accompany them. She's very knowledgeable in political situations and can be useful with her empathic abilities. Along with her, I want to send my first officer as the leader of the team. With both his skills and rank, it seems appropriate."

Jayton nodded in agreement, even as some of the other Captains didn't seem to be in agreement. "You'll need security. One or two officers."

"What about Commander Tette? Would he be up to it?"

The Captain nodded, but then sighed. "I wouldn't doubt his enthusiasm, but he's the only one who knows how to contact our major scavenger. He may not meet with anyone else."

Riker nodded his head slowly as he thought. "Just give me two officers- humans preferably. No offense," he directed towards the Trill commander. She only raised an eyebrow, not showing any response.

"So, are we all in agreement?" Looking around the table, most nodded, a few making no response at all to Riker's inquiry. "Very well. I want to meet with you two and your two security officers, Captain Jayton. 1400 hours tomorrow."

The Captain nodded, rising only as Riker did. The rest of the table followed suit, slowly shuffling out of the conference room.

/-/-/-/

/- **_Around the Same Time_**

"I do hope that you had nothing to do with this, Lwaxana." The Betazoid Ambassador turned as she heard the voice of an old friend, her face remaining still even as she saw him. "I know your position with President Amen and relationship with Commander Riker."

"Really? Pell shares my feelings about this. I don't see you accusing her of anything," Lwaxana retorted.

"I don't mean to accuse you, Lwaxana-"

"Then what would you call what you're doing, Ederry? Because I'd call it an accusation."

"Lwaxana, we've known each other for a very long time-"

"Which is why I thought you might trust me enough not to ask."

"Actually, that's _why_ I'm asking. I don't agree with President Amen either, but I would never assist terrorists." Ederry moved closer, catching her eye.

"And I would?"

"You'd help Riker, that I know."

"What makes you so sure that he did anything?" she questions, a single brow raising as she walked closer to him.

"Who else would have?"

"There are plenty who are upset with Amen… and with others present at the bombing. There are some terrorist organizations that might have done it."

Ederry shrugged, glancing away from her and at the view the balcony provided. "Who knows, but that's who Amen suspects-"

"Of course he does. Riker is possibly the only one who could mess up his chance to president. He's already taken every chance to discredit the man. This is just another opportunity."

Ederry just starred at her for a long while, saying nothing. And Lwaxana held his eye the entire time, her mind guarding only what she didn't want him to see.

Finally he looked away, his swift pace taking him quickly away from her. Pell turned to avoid him, his course taking him right toward her.

The Trill glanced over her shoulder at the retreating Betazoid, raising an eyebrow in curiosity. "What's his problem?"

Lwaxana sighed. "He's suspicious of me-"

"With good reason," she whispered back, approaching the woman.

The Betazoid shook her head. "I know but… he tired to see if I was lying to him."

"What- did he?"

"No, I've always been stronger than him but-"

"You can never be sure," Pell finished with a nod. "Then again, by the way he stormed out I doubt he knew anything."

"True. Let's just hope."

/-/-/-/

/- **_A Few Days Later_**

Chairs scratched the floor as the five-person team rose from their seats. Riker remained where he was, watching with a feeling of deja vu as Deanna approached him. He heaved a sigh, shaking his head.

She rested her hand on his shoulder, standing next to her. He looked up, catching her eye with a faint smile. "This will work, Will. Trust me."

"I do… I hope it does work, Deanna."

"Will-"

"Hey… come 'ere." He took her by the sides, pulling her onto his lap, wrapping his arms around her. "This'll work."

"It will."

"We'll fix it all, right?"

"We'll fix it, Will. Everything."

He nodded into her shoulder, his hot breath tickling her neck as he left his nose against her jaw. "This is all my fault."

"It is not, Will. It's not your fault."

"I started all this… if I hadn't-"

"If you hadn't done what you did, we'd all be facing court-martials. No one would even be questioning Amen. It would be a lot worse if we hadn't done what we did," Deanna comforted him, resting her hand against his arm, rubbing it gently.

"If I hadn't done what I did, Captain Picard would still be alive and all these men and women would still be able to go home."

"Will." Deanna leaned back, taking his face in her hands. "You couldn't have done anything differently. You did what you had to do."

He just looked into her eyes, finding himself lost in the depth of her brown eyes. But he didn't say anything. He just looked away, his eyes staring at the golden gleam of her communicator.

"Will?"

"We should go get Liz. You… you should spend some time with her before you have to leave."

Deanna sighed, nodded as she stood up. "Alright. Let's go get her."

/-/-/-/

/- **_Around the Same Time_**

Inside the dark, cold room, there was nothing. Nothing… not even the slightest sign of inhabitation. There were no movements except what the small draft caused. There were no light fixtures, no visible doors, no visible anything except the darkness and the cold.

No one had been there; not in hundreds of years for it had never been meant to be used again. Never was it supposed to have been uncovered… but it was. It was by the last person who should have even known of its existence. And now, it was too late.

In the drafty wall, someone slide open a smaller portion, allowing so little but precious light inside of the empty room. The two men who had opened the door carried with them a third man. He was smaller than the others by at least a head but held his posture with dignity and bravado no one could hope to impersonate.

His hands, though bound in front of him, showed no resistance against the two large men as they pulled at his arms and shoulders roughly to force him through the halls. His face, despite being cover by a black, felt bag, showed no emotion even though the man knew they could not see him. His face was stone behind the bag showing to no one, if they could see, his fear of his unknown fate.

Within seconds of the door opening, the two captors shoved him inside with a simple push on his back. With his hands bound, it was impossible to help himself catch any of the fall. But, using training he had thought he would never need again, the man rolled onto his shoulder and to his back to keep the brunt of the fall from his hands.

It wasn't long before the clicking of magnetic locks reached his ears and he knew that he was sealed in for good. A wave a panic and terror crept through his spine, forcing his heart to pound frantically in his chest and his breathing to grow rapid.

Slowly, though, he mastered the fear, forcing his mind to stay calm. Instead, he focused on his restraints. First trying to force them open, then pick them. But without being able to see them, there was no hope. He brought his arms up the best he could and tugged hopelessly at the hood over his face, but nothing worked.

He sighed, twisting his body in an attempt to sit up. But it didn't work. Finally he just relaxed, his muscles resting…

And he waited. For what, he didn't know…

/-/-/-/

/- **_A Few Days Later_**

Will hoisted the bag to his shoulder, amazed that it didn't weigh more than it did. By the look of its fullness, it seemed that she had packed to go for a year.

"I'll be there in a minute, Will," she called from their room. He smirked, shaking his head. If he didn't already know how she did that…

"Take you time. They won't leave without you." She walked out at that moment, carrying a small PADD in her hands. "You ready?"

"As I'll ever be." He nodded, his hand on the small of her back as he lead her through the door. He could almost feel her anxiety radiating from her body. He sighed. If he were honest with himself, it was probably just his own anxiety that he was feeling.

If he were honest with himself, he'd admit that he was scared. That he feared that they wouldn't return, that Deanna wouldn't return. That the mission would fail. That…

Well, he wasn't being honest with himself; he was shutting in all those feelings and hoping that she wouldn't mention them. Hoping that he could forget they were there for a little while.

As they turned into the turbolift, Will told the computer their destination, feeling the light pull as it began its descent. They talked quietly for a few minutes. At first about nothing until finally Deanna mentioned the mission.

"Are you saying you don't want to go?" Will asked, turning towards her at her words.

"No. No, it's just… it's just that I don't want to leave Liz again. Not so soon. We just got back," Deanna sighed, leaning into Will's arms. "This is only the second time I've ever been away from her for more than two days."

"And she'll survive," Will consoled her, tightening his hold around her shoulders. "You'll be back before you know it, trust me."

She looked at his face, seeing the love he held in them. "I know. But I still want to stay with you and Liz."

"Just say the word and I can get you out of this mission."

She glared up at him. "Will, I can not just abandon them, not when we're just about to depart."

He sighed, nodding his head. "It was worth a try."

The turbolift slowed, its doors opening to reveal a foreign commander standing before them, a sack slung casually over his shoulder. "Captain Riker, Counselor Troi."

"Data?"

"Wow," she gasped at the same time. "You, um… look great… with that… skin tone," she stammered out, trying hard to mask her grin as Data walked in. She had heard that Beverly was going to adjust the pigment of his skin to make him look more human but… wow!

"Thank-you, Counselor. I appreciate that." Deanna nodded, looking to the door instead.

"Are preparations finished?"

"Yes, Captain. Ensign McClain has already provided accommodations for us. We should remain safe there. Commander Tette has acquired a transport ship from his contact. It was only take us four hours to reach the rendezvous. Another ten to reach Earth."

"Very well," came from Riker just as the turbolift stopped. He continued speaking as he walked out, the other two right behind him. "You have permission to leave whenever you're ready."

The three stopped just outside the Shuttle Bay's doors. "Thank-you, sir. We should be ready within thirty minutes, sir."

Riker nodded, looking to Data. But the android stood there another moment, watching his Captain. "Could we have a moment alone?"

"Ah. I apologize," he said as he turned and walked through the door. Deanna and Will laughed, shaking their heads. He might be far more intelligent than they'd ever be, but sometimes the obvious was just beyond his reach.

"I'm going to miss you, Imzadi."

Her hand caressed his jaw before pushing a short lock of hair from his eyes. "I will too, Will."

"I love you," he whispered just as she pulled him down to brush her lips against his.

He leaned his forehead against hers, bringing his hand to her cheek. "We should get in there."

"We should." After a moment more of his touch, Deanna stepped back, a sad smile on her lips. _'I love you, Imazadi.'_

/-/-/-/

/- **_Around the Same Time_**

"Captain's log: Stardate: 37210.07:

"The away team left an hour ago. According to Commander Data, they will arrive at their transport within three more hours. But it will be half a day before they reach Earth.

"Ensign McClain, a member of the _DeForest_'s security team, has assumed me that his mother has a place for them to stay. She's a political adviser on Earth and strongly opposed to Ambassador Amen, he believes she will be willing to host them."

Riker sighed, scratching his head. "I understand that Commander Tette's contact has already risked his life and career to get us what he has, which has been quite a lot… but I don't trust him. Somehow this all feels wrong…

"Then again, maybe I have no idea what I'm talking about. But something just doesn't feel right. I just know that I'll feel much better when they're back… when they're all back."

Will sighed again, looking down at his lap. Liz smiled up at him her eyes shinning with amusement at something. He just smiled back, brushing away a small lock of hair from her eyes.

With a shake of his head, he called out, "Computer, end log. Come on kid, let's get you to bed."

/-/-/-

Well, that's it for Year 1. Keep an eye out for Year 2, it'll be posted by Sunday.


	3. Year 2: 2373

_Author's Note:_I meant to have this posted yesterday but... well I forgot. But here's the next part! And more shall be on the way in a couple of days. Enjoy!

/-/-

**Year Two: 2373**

"Personal Log. Stardate, 37301.05.

"It's been three months since the away team left for Earth. Five days ago was the New Year: 2373. Let's hope this one ends better than the last.

"Not much has gone on in these three months. Repairs are still slow, though we have finished all major repair work. Power is still limited and we're still on food rations, but it's better…

"We still haven't heard anything from the away team. I know, of course, that it was never expected from them to contact us considering the nature of the mission but…

"But I'm worried for them. I'm worried about Deanna. Everyday Liz asks about her. Three months is far too long for a mother to be gone from her child… it's too long for them to be away period. They should have been back weeks ago.

"I've tried to convince myself that, if they had been seen or caught, it would have been on the news. That I'd know somehow if something had happened.

"But it's been three months with nothing… and nothing worries me far more."

/-/-/-/

/- **_January, At the Same Time _**

Her heart pounded in her ears, her breath coming out in harsh huffs as she ran. She strained her muscles, willing herself not feel the burning. Willing herself to run farther- to run faster.

A rough hand grabbed her arm, pulling her to the right. The person pulled her body up to his, the other hand clasping over her mouth as he brought them to the wall of the alley. She remained still, her body rigid against the man's.

Voices rang from the streets as the Starfleet officers raced after her, confused by her disappearance. One young man glanced in the alley, his eyes darting around as he looked for something. She held her breath, closing her eyes, willing him not to see them in their hiding spot.

"Ensign!" A final, indifferent glance was all he gave before turning away, continuing the search for Deanna. Soon after, the streets were clear of Starfleet personnel.

The hand dropped away, allowing Deanna to turn towards the man, whom she already knew was Lieutenant Graham. The cool blue eyes looked at her, showing her the same void of emotions that she felt in him.

"Did you get it?"

"Yes."

A curt nod was all she received, just as a cold wind forced its way through the alley, blowing his light hair in his eyes. He brushed it away, scratching his nose as he did so.

"What were you doing out here?"

He scowled at her. "Does it matter? I saved you back there."

"And I appreciate it-"

"Then let's get out of here before they come back."

The young security officer turned, brushing by her as he headed for the back of the alley. Deanna sighed, shaking her head, and followed behind him.

/-/-/-/

/- **_Soon After _**

The lights were dim when she entered their "headquarters". Data and Lieutenant Commander Tette were already gathered around the table, their meals left half-eaten. Both turned as they entered down the stairs. Immediately they were awaiting her answer to their silent question.

Pulling her hand from a pocket, she set the object on the table in front of Data. He merely glanced at it before saying, "Well done, Counselor."

Deanna nodded, collapsing into the chair. Tette offered her some of the left over food. A shake of her head was she gave him, Lieutenant Graham taking it from Tette instead.

Graham munched slowly on the cracker in his hand, the sound of his eating the only noise in the room. Everyone else remained silent as Data placed the crystal chip into the computer.

Instantly the dull walls of Aurik's former chamber surrounded them, his large oak desk replacing their table. Graham's jaw froze in mid-chew, startled by the sudden appearance of holographic figures- one of Aurik and another of Amen.

They waited just a moment, the figures starting themselves. ****

_"Captain, we've been discussing this for awhile," _the figure of Aurik said, his body facing away from them, as he looked into the screen, eerily enough displaying the _Enterprise _Bridge.

_"We've noticed."_ Deanna smirked as she hear Will mutter those words, not recalling him do so at the time.

"We've decided-" 

_"Captain, twenty Hagan ships are approaching our position."_ The atmosphere immediately changed as Worf was heard speaking those words. Aurik became almost tense, glancing quickly to an alarmed Ambassador Amen.

_"Mr. President, we need an answer now; they're approaching our position with weapons charged. If they attack, do we open fire?" _

Deanna's gaze shifted to the screen, Picard's face was on it. The Counselor's eyes slide shut, willing her tears to remain at bay. With everything going on, she had never truly allowed herself a moment to mourn, as she had been busy helping everyone else to do just that.

_"At all costs, do not engage! Stand down!" _Deanna's brows furrowed at Amen's actions as he pushed past the President. He seemed truly scared of them engaging the Hagan.

"Are you-" 

Aurik pushed Amen out of his way, saying, _"Attack if necessary, Picard. Attack them and protect their target at all costs! Picard-"_

Amen's hand hit two buttons quickly, hissing at the President, _"What are you doing? If they attack, we will be at war with Miko!"_

_"And if they don't they will be destroyed!" _

_"We don't know that."_

_"Really?" _Aurik shouted at him as he leaned against the console. Deanna watched him, she didn't recall hearing the last few lines. She did however remember the comms going dead for a moment.

_"We gave them the coordinates,"_ Aurik began, Deanna recognizing this as the speech they had all heard. _"Where they live, their defenses capabilities- without even knowing it! Thanks to us, Ketrel is vulnerable to their attack and they will undoubtedly use it!" _

"That is not our problem! Not anymore! The Prime Directive keeps us-" 

"The Prime Directive should have kept us from giving them what we did. But that didn't seem to bother us until it was too late! And now we're going to let them be destroyed because of our ignorance."

_"The Prime Directive-"_ Amen said once again, only to be interrupted.

_"Was destroyed two years ago when all of this began! If we can ignore it when it does not fit into our agenda, then it means nothing!"_ Aurik was visibly fuming, his chest rising and falling quickly as he struggled to regain his breath.

After a long pause, he became calm once again, saying quietly, _"We have to stop them or we will be at fault for the destruction of Ketrel." _

The image halted before fading away, returning them to the dull, bare room in the Tette's childhood home. It was silent for a time, most of them starring at the spot Amen and Aurik had been arguing at.

"Wow," came a soft whisper from Tette, his voice echoing in the quiet room.

"It was most intriguing," Data thought aloud, pulling the crystal from the computer. "This, at least, could not have been faked. Combined with our own records, this will show that Ambassador Amen's actions were unjustified."

"Forget that!" Graham nearly shouted, a smirk growing over his face. "That thing shows us how much the Federation screwed up."

A single brow on Data's face lifted, his head cocking to the side as he looked at the younger officer. "I do not see how that is of any importance to our mission."

The man let out a groan, shaking his head. "Whatever. Why didn't you get anymore? What happened after they argued?"

Deanna looked at the man. "There was no more."

"What do you mean 'there was no more'?"

"There had to be more," Tette said, finishing for Graham.

"But there wasn't. It had been erased… around the same time it had been recorded."

"By who?" Data asked.

Deanna turned to look at him. She shook her head, "I don't know. I didn't have time to check. I doubt I would have been able to find out."

The android nodded, pulling the crystal from its holder. "Commander, I would like you to attempt to speak with your contact. We should leave as soon as we are able."

"Aye, sir. But I will warn you, it could take several days before he can even contact me, much less get here."

"That is understandable, Commander. I said as soon as possible. Dismissed."

Tette nodded, sighing as he stood and left the table. Graham groaned but he too left the table, heading towards his sleeping area. Deanna watched them all leave before looking to Data.

"You're doing a great job, you know that right?"

The android allowed a small tugged at his lips as he said, "Thank-you, Counselor."

"Oh, come on, Data. How many times must I ask you before you'll call me Deanna?"

"We are on duty."

"Data… never mind." She sighed, laying her head on the table. A small laugh escaped her as she realized how childish she must look. But then, she didn't truly care. She was tired, and too tired to move to her bed.

"How are you feeling… Deanna?"

She smiled lifting her head to look up at Data. "I'm just tired, Data."

"No… I meant to inquire… you must miss Captain Riker and Elizabeth."

The woman sighed, resting her chin on her crossed arms. Her face fell slightly as she thought of the two. It seemed that she didn't think much about them until times like this. Just sitting and eating or before she went to bed. She always put her daughter to bed on school nights- nights like that one. And she missed Will next to her, his warm body protecting her from the galaxy.

"Yes, I do, Data. Just… we're really going home?"

"As soon as Commander Tette is successful in securing us a transport."

Deanna nodded against her arm, letting her eyes close. "Good."

/-/-/-/

/- **_A Few Days Later _**

"Members of Earth, the Federation, and distinguished guest.

"We all know the circumstances that led to this day. It had been over four months since late President Aurik died tragically, and I stepped in to fill his place. And while those four months have left all of Earth without a, quote unquote, real president and the Federation without a, quote unquote, real Earth representative. I am here now to take that position and those responsibilities for real. And to allow my own, trusted aid to step up to the position of Earth Representative.

"Everyone… most everyone, is likely familiar with the Federation Council's reluctance to accept myself as president. While the assured me many times that it was not me they doubted," Amen said with a laugh, hearing some of the crowd respond with him, "but their doubt of the fact that the President had indeed died.

"You might also know of the attack by a terrorist organization against myself and the Federation Council some months ago. That meeting was held with the intent on settling their minds and, unfortunately, confirming the death of our beloved last president.

"Not three weeks ago was a second meeting held, for the same reasons, on Trill soil. This was conducted in silence to protect all those involved. I apologize for going to such lengths, but it was felt by many- and myself- that the terrorists from before still posed, and poses, a threat to the Federation…"

/-/-/-/

/- **_Around the Same Time _**

_"As your president-" _

"Well," Jayton's voice echoed throughout the room as it was suddenly quieted by Riker, "They may never believe us now." Riker just sighed, not even looking at the man in acknowledgment. "What did you expect to accomplish by sabotaging the last one?"

He shrugged, rubbing the side of his cheek. "A conference like this… if rescheduled is moved four months later. Usually in a different location. I though that this would give us time to collect something against Amen. At least enough to fight in out own defense."

The other captain nodded. "Four months should have been enough time to get something, yes. I guess you-"

"They should be back by now," Will mumbled, interrupting Jayton. "I've had a bad feeling about this the entire time. I should never have let them go."

"Maybe you shouldn't have. But, either way, we need what they're looking for. We still need _something_."

Riker's jaw clenched in thought, clenching and unclenching for a few minutes. He stood, walking away from Jayton as he said, "Yeah. Yeah, maybe…" Running tired hands over his face, Riker suppressed a yawn.

"You look like crap, Will."

"Thanks."

Jayton shook his head at the sarcasm. "Go get some sleep."

Will sighed. "I can't. I have to go get Liz."

"Ask a friend to watch her; you need some sleep."

"I've barely spent any time with her for the past few weeks. It's enough that she misses her mother-"

"Then go play with your daughter, Will."

A smile tugged at his lips, even a small chuckle erupted from his chest with the thought of his daughter's playing. "Right. Tomorrow."

"Tomorrow."

/-/-/-/

/- **_A Week Later _**

Deanna looked around herself. She had been there once before- of course that time she had run from there with eight security officers trailing her.

She sighed, pushing her hair behind her ear. Ugh. She had been forced to dye her hair blonde before she was allowed to leave, just to keep from detection. Her eyes had even been altered to appear green.

The things she did for Tette! For Will!

She sighed again, walking slowly through the halls. Tette had said to meet her at the intersection of the hall she was in and another. He better be there. He didn't even say what he needed.

"Counselor, I had always envisioned you with darker hair." Deanna jumped, just barely keeping her mouth shut so that she didn't scream, as she whipped around. "And definably not green eyes. I'm sorry, I hadn't meant to startle you."

Her heart pounded faster, her breath quickening, as she realized she had been caught and identified. Identified by a dark haired Captain standing before her. It was easy to see that he was Human.

"Don't worry, Deanna, I'm here to help you."

"Really?"

"Yes. I'm Commander Tette's contact- you have heard of me?" Deanna's head cocked to the side, just watching him rather than answering. "Of course you have. Come this way, we have to get out of these corridors."

"Why?"

"Because people use them," he said just as he grabbed her arm, pulling her behind a fold in the wall, pushing her body against his. Just as she tried to pull away from his grasp, she heard the low muttering of distant voices and footsteps. Immediately she stilled.

Listening closely, their words grew clearer as they approached. And yet the words still made no sense. Deanna recognized one of the voices as President Amen himself, but the other two were unknown to her.

"As I've told you numerous times, that attack on your ships was not authorized by me," Amen said to the others.

"But they were ships under _your_ jurisdiction. You should have had more control over your own people."

"Yes," Amen agreed with the deep voice, "I should. As we've discussed, we will reimburse you for you loss. But-"

"There are no 'but's. You should just be grateful that we have not rescinded our alliance."

Deanna's ears strained to hear the voices as they past by her and the Human, but the rest of their conversation was lost upon her for the voices had grown too faint.

She sighed, suddenly realizing the position she was in. Stepping away from the man, she turned around, muttering her thanks.

"You're welcome," he said, sarcastically.

"I have to go."

"What's your rush?" He asked, stepping into her path.

"Get out of my way."

"Why should I? I helped you, you're the one who owes me."

"I didn't ask for your help."

"No, but Tette asked for yours."

"What?" Deanna looked up at his smirk, her mouth slightly agape as millions of scenarios and thoughts ran through her head.

"Oh don't worry, I didn't do anything to him. But right now, I need your help. Sort of." Deanna just glared at him, quickly realizing that it had been his altered voice on the comms and not the Commander's.

The counselor shook her head. If this was Tette's contact, what was he doing on Earth already? She just sighed, "What do you need?"

"For you to follow those men."

"What?"

"Follow them, and you'll get something far more interesting."

Deanna looked away from him, down the hall that she knew Amen had walked down. "What if-" Her voice cut off when she looked back, the man gone. "Where-? What the hell."

A groan escaped her throat as Deanna ran a hand through her hair. Shaking her head, she slipped back out into the hall, walking where she had heard Amen go. She sighed; just what was she doing? She should be heading back to the house and leaving whatever this was untouched. She should…

But her feet didn't let her. They continued forward towards a conference room. She could hear voices inside; they sounded the same as before. She looked down, finding that- luckily for her- the doors were still the antique handle doors. A small gap between the two doors allowed her to listen in. They were still discussing the alliance she had briefly heard before.

Quickly, she pulled out her tricorder, programming it to record their conversation. Something about borders were mentioned, and secrecy. Amen and his guests wanted no one else within the Federation to know about their agreement. And a new voice- Ambassador Smith she recalled- agreed with the thought.

Ken and Amen were both in there. She had known that Ken wanted to go places and as fast as he could, but teaming up with Amen… it seemed right up his ally.

Carefully she peaked in. The wood of the door obscured her view of most of the room, including the men inside. With a silent sigh, she pushed it opened slightly. She jumped back at the squeak. Who knew doors made such noises?

"What was that?" She heard someone ask from inside.

"Oh, it's just the door. The wind must have opened it. Horrible old building," Amen mussed as Ken walked towards the door.

Deanna's eyes quickly darted around, hustling around the corner to keep from being seen. Ken took only a second to glance outside before he shut the door. Deanna sighed. Why was she there again?

But her thoughts didn't stop her from returning to the door. Carefully, and slowly, she turned the handle. But it wouldn't move past a few centimeters. She tried again, but it wouldn't budge. Ken must have locked it. Damn!

/-/-/-/

/- **_Around the Same Time _**

Deanna stifled a yawn; it had been late into the afternoon when she had left the house. And, with little sleep and standing and waiting for hours, she was growing tired and weary. Many times she had considered leaving. Had hoped that there was nothing more she could do with the strange Human's warning.

But her curiosity kept her there. Yes, it was true that she had overheard that Amen had some kind of secret alliance with someone, and it was recorded. Surely that was enough to cause some problems with the Council?

But what she wanted to know was who were they? Why the secrecy? What were they talking about in there?

But even her curiosity was wearing thin. She was tired and hungry and needed to get back. Commander Tette was surely gone or leaving by then. He and the others would be worried about her. Why hadn't she told them about why she was going? But that might make them more worried. She should leave-

The door handle turned, startling Deanna. She stood, hiding within a fold in the wall, finding herself directly across the hall from the opening door. Amen walked through, smiling and talking with his guests as he went.

She held her breath, activating her tricorder once again. Whether or not she could identify the people, she would need some sort of proof of who they were. And her jaw nearly dropped when she did…

Two men, about the age of thirty, walked out behind Amen, Ken at their heels. Both had pale skin, nearly white next to the darker men. Blue triangular spots ran from their forehead to chin, running along their nose and eyes.

Deanna's hand barely made it to her mouth to suppress a gasp. Mikolians! Amen was in league with the Mikolians, and he didn't want anyone else to know. But why? And why them? What did the Mikolians- or the Hagan as they were now- have to offer Amen?

She didn't know, but she did know that she needed to get out of there and back to the house where she could tell the others.

/-/-/-/

/- **_Around the Same Time _**

"Have you been able to contact Riker yet?"

Lwaxana looked over, hearing the sound of her friend's voice. "No, I'm afraid not, Pell. I've tried but… Will warned me about the stars' radiation and that it might affect long-range communications."

"True," the Trill agreed with a sigh, walking far into the garden and closer to Lwaxana. "I'm sorry, that Talliturn let me in."

"It's okay. How are you, Pell? I haven't see you in days."

The Trill nodded, taking a seat next to the Betazoid on the bench. Her hand reach out, playing with the soft leaves of an Ibis. "I've… felt better. You?"

"I just wish I knew how my daughter and granddaughter are." The woman sighed, standing up. Pell glanced up at her, surprised by her sudden movement. "How is Ayla?"

Pell smiled. "Wonderful."

The Betazoid nodded, knowingly, a small smile gracing her sad eyes. "Marriage can do that… she's not joined, right?"

"Right."

A silence stretched over the two for a time, Pell taking the moment to look over amazing diversity of plants Lwaxana's garden contained, inhaling deeply the scents and fragrances all around her.

"What do you think they're going to find?"

"I haven't a clue," Lwaxana responded, catching Pell's gaze. "I just hope it's something. Just hope they find something."

/-/-/-/

/- **_Around the Same Time _**

"Commander? Where have you been?"

Deanna looked down at Lieutenant Tette as she walked down the basement stairs. "Answering your message. Which, I might add, you never showed up for."

"What-"

"Not that it matters. I managed to overhear quite the interesting conversation," Deanna continued on, approaching the table, not noticing the confused look on Tette's face.

"Wait! What message?"

"What do you mean, 'what message'? Oh, sorry. You- well, not you- hailed me hours ago asking for assistance."

"No I didn't."

"Of course you didn't." Deanna paused, looking Tette in the eyes. "Oh!" she moaned suddenly, rubbing her eyes as she turned away from him. Hours of standing and wearily waiting had started to do their damage. "Never mind."

Opening her mouth to speak again, Data interrupted her, saying, "You said that you had overheard something of interest."

All eyes turned to the android before returning to Deanna as she recalled the news she had discovered. "Right… uh, well, I went to the Federation Consulate-"

"Wait a minute? You did what?"

Deanna looked back at Graham, sending him a silent look of annoyance at his remark. "Never mind, it doesn't matter. Just listen to this."

Pulling her tricorder from her shoulder bag, Deanna set it on the table and set it up to play what she had recorded. Everyone else watched in silence for a second, waiting to hear what she had to show them.

"Tell me again, President Amen, what are your Federation's borders?" 

_"You know what they are, Commander Jaron." _

_"And do you think that, because our borders are a mere fraction of your own, that it will intimidate us?" _

_"No, I think it will appeal to you." _

_A short pause silenced the tape, lasting only a minute. "And the rest of your government?" _

_"Will know nothing. This will be… our little secret for now. How does that sound?" _

_"I like it." _

_"Secret?" _

_"Yes, Smith, a secret. No one needs to know about this yet. It will make this alliance more… beneficial for Earth-" _

_"What was that?" _

_"Oh, it's just the door. The wind must-" _

"They're talking to two Mikolians. Probably members of the Hagan," Deanna said as she deactivated the tricorder, glancing up at the others to gauge their reactions.

"Do you have any proof?"

"Only this," she replied, handing over the tricorder to allow Data to inspect the scans she had taken.

"They appear to be Mikolians."

"So, you just _happened _to get a mysterious communication, that never happened, leading you to all this? That, conveniently, led you to President Amen speaking with two Mikolians? How do we know you didn't just fake all this?"

"And why would I have?" Deanna spat back at Graham, her eyes narrowing with annoyance.

But the man just smirked and laughed. "How would I know? You're the Betazoid, you're supposed to be the one making sure we're all being honest. How do we know that it's not you that's the spy?"

Deanna straightened her back as Graham suddenly jumped from his chair, not moving even as he approached her. Tette just watched on, curiosity the only thing she could sense from them.

"You'll just have to trust me. Whether or not you're capable of such a thing in your paranoid mind, I don't know, but you'll have to either way." Deanna turned away from him, looking to Data. "If I'm excuse…"

"Of course, Counselor." With a single nod towards Data, she walked away.

"I don't trust her. I don't trust Betazoids, quite frankly. They freak me out- always knowing what you're thinking."

"I trust the Commander," Data said, Graham looking at him with his normal, blank expression. "And that is all you must know about her, Lieutenant. Is that understood."

Graham hesitated, glancing back at Tette. He didn't say anything, just looked away as if disinterested in the conversation.

"Yes, sir. That's understood. May I be dismissed?"

"Yes, Lieutenant."

/-/-/-/

/- **_A Few Days Later _**

"You wanted to see me, sir?"

Amen looked up at the voice, giving an indifferent nod, waving the man over. "Yes, Ken. I wanted to see what you thought of this."

"About what?"

"Come here. This."

Ken sighed, stepping forward and taking the PADD from the president. He sighed, shaking his head as his eyes skimmed over the words, eyes widening as he went over. "You've got plans for years here!"

"Of course I do. You must learn to look towards the future, boy!" Amen said with a smirk, hitting his back as he walked around the desk. "We have to think ahead. There's a plan, my boy, whether or not you can see it."

The President paused before the window, turning back to Ken. "There's so much we can do."

Ken let out a snort, shaking his head. "What future? What plan? All this will take years more than you have. Don't forget that Earth will be voting a new president in five years…"

Amen looked away for a moment, a sigh coming slowly from his lips. Then suddenly he turned to see Ken; his movements slow and deliberate. The man swallowed, startled by the sick smile creeping onto his lips.

"Then we'll just have to change that."

"How?"

Amen looked at him and sighed. "I have five years to figure that out, don't I? Ten if you count my reelection."

/-/-/-/

/- **_A Few Days Later _**

"Not our usual meeting spot."

Tette jumped at the deep voice, unprepared to hear it behind him. Spinning around, he let out a groan, "Don't… do that!"

The man just smirked, letting out a soft chuckle. But his amusement died quickly as he looked around. Thick trees surrounded them, cloaking the two men in darkness with their shadows.

"San Francisco Park? Not exactly were I'd've picked, but-"

"We need a transport out of here," Tette interrupted, far too tired and too shocked to deal with the Human.

The man shook his head. "That will be nearly impossible- Amen had increased security on all in and out going vessels. You'll never get passed security."

"You promised a two-way trip."

"Yeah, that was before you screwed up and alerted him that you're here." The Human shook his head again, his hands in the air as he said, "No deal, Lieutenant. I can't get you out. You're on your own."

The man shrugged and turned away, only stopping when Tette yelled out, "Hey, wait! Just… just get us a ship. Put it where we can get to it. We'll get ourselves passed security."

"Really? What if you're caught? They'll trace the ship back to me."

"We're stealing it! You'll just be grateful that we were caught and your pod found. You'll be even more grateful to find that the extremely sensitive documents you accidentally left in there were unharmed so you can transmit them to your… employers immediately."

The Human just looked at him for a moment, his head beginning to shake slowly. "They'll put me in a cell right next to you, you know?"

"Only if we're caught."

"And you won't be?" Tette snorted at the question, not wasting his breath with an answer.

"Will you help us?"

Tette watched as the Human glanced him over, looking away as he scratched his neck. "I came on my personal transport. It's docked on the East Coast, in New York City. The access code is four-five-eight-two-one-zero. Your android should be able to get you through the rest."

"Thank-you."

"Don't thank me until you're back on your ship… because I'm not coming after you if you're incarcerated."

And then he walked away, leaving Tette there in the shadows…


	4. Year 2: 2373, continued

**Year Two: 2373**

"Are you sure we're at the right place?"

"Yes, I'm positive. New York City; this is the only place in the city that houses personal shuttles for any period of time."

Graham sighed, shaking his head as he let Tette lead the way through the dimmed hallway. Following behind the other three, he watched their backs, determined not to ignore his gut feeling- nothing ever good came from when he did.

"You did write down the codes, right?" Graham heard Deanna ask suddenly.

"Yes, I wrote down the code. It's easy to remember."

"What do you mean 'code'? There are at least two needed," Deanna hissed at him. Graham looked over at the three officers, smirking. He shook his head, what a long night it could turn into.

"He only gave me one. He said Commander Data could figure out the rest." There was no response from Data that Graham could hear, or see, but he got the feeling that the android wasn't all that thrilled with the comment.

"You can do that, right Data?"

"I believe I can, Counselor," he replied just as Tette halted in front of a pair of doors.

"This is it," Graham heard as he watched the corridor. The halls were empty, void of anything except for them and the small amount of light shinning on the dull white walls.

Graham let out another sigh as he heard Tette fumbling with the slip of paper, trying to read his unpracticed handwriting in the dim light.

"Four… five… eight… two… one… eight," the Commander muttered, reading off the numbers to Deanna as she punched in the code. "Wait!" he hissed suddenly, Deanna's finger jumping back before she hit the last digit.

"Ah! What?"

"Not eight. It's zero."

"Are you sure?"

"Uh-" Graham looked to see Tette squinting down at the paper. "Yeah. Zero. Zero's definably the last number."

She took a deep breath, tapping the last number hesitantly. The doors opened compliantly, making no sound to cover Tette's sharp sigh.

"Which one's his?"

"Uh-"

"You don't know?"

Tette ignored Graham's remark, looking over the six ships in the hanger. "It's… that one."

"How do you know?"

Tette shrugged. "It's the only one without a name."

"That's how you know?"

"He's not much of a name person." Tette moved quickly towards the shuttle, Graham following close behind.

"That is an interesting method to come to such a decision," Data commented, moving to catch up with him. Deanna just shook her head, following behind. "But are you sure your decision is accurate?"

"There's no way to tell now. Can you open it?" Deanna looked up at Data, turning to allow him to walk around her. But she didn't pay much attention to what they were doing. Instead she stared at the door.

"Someone's coming." Deanna's soft whisper caught all of their attentions, making the three men pause.

"Over here." They all followed Graham behind the large cargo containers, all four able to hide before they heard the door open.

"What are we doing again?"

"Come on, idiot! Same thing we do every week at this time."

"Right… so how's the wife?"

"Tina? She's doing fine," he answered, somewhat distracted as he walked farther into the room.

"I can' believe they're making us work tonight!" The other man said after a second of silence.

"Would you stop complaining? It's not like you had a hot date or anything."

"Hey! But it's one in the bloody morning!" the other groaned.

"I've got my phaser, sir," Tette whispered to Data, pulling it out as he spoke.

"Commander, I saw a thumbprint scanner on the shuttle. They might have access."

Data looked between Tette and Graham, the Lieutenant's own phaser out and ready to use. A brisk nod from the android was all the two needed. Rising, both aimed, sensing the two workers to the ground.

"Let's just hope this is going to work."

Tette looked over at Deanna, a small scowl on his face. "It'll work. I trust my contact."

"You trust the man that didn't even tell which shuttle is his and how to get into it? Sorry." Graham sighed, shrugging off Tette's harsh stare.

"Help me with this guy." Data shook his head, stepping around Tette to lift one of the men from the floor. With ease, he dragged the man over to the shuttle's entrance. Deanna meet him there, taking the man's hand and pressing his thumb to the pad.

The three held their breath as they attached the computer process the print.

_"Access granted. Password." _

"Password?" Graham asked. "We are so-"

"Tina." All eyes turned to Deanna. "He said his wife's name is Tina. It's as good as we're going to get."

"Tina?"

_"Voice match: incorrect."_

"Uh-"

"Tina," Data repeated quickly. Tette and Graham both looked to him, started and confused by the change in his voice.

_"Voice match: correct. Access granted."_ The doors opened with a hiss, sliding out of their way. For a moment, they just looked at each other, smirking dumbly at their fortune.

"Commander, begin the start-up procedure. Lieutenant, take him."

Tette nodded before he and Deanna disappeared into the shuttle; Graham, however, scowled, taking Tina's husband under the armpits and dragged him to the door. Data did the same only he lifted the other man onto his shoulder, bringing him to the door faster than Graham was able.

"We should hurry, it won't take long before they notice a shuttle leaving."

"You are correct," Data responded, already walking quickly back to the shuttle.

Deanna looked to the back as she heard the door close. Quickly she moved from the co-pilot's seat, letting Data have it instead. She settled back into one of the passenger's seats, relaxing back into the cushioned chair. "I will give you this, Tette, we are flying in style."

The Lieutenant Commander nodded, chuckling softly with her remark. "Great. Counselor, hide the bag in one of those compartments. Just incase."

"Just incase what, Commander? You're not planning on getting caught are you? Because I paid for a great pilot," she teased as she rose, doing as he asked.

"No ma'am," he said with a laugh. "I hope not."

/-/-/-/

/- **_Around the Same Time _**

"Commander Jaron."

"President Amen."

Amen gave a small smile of satisfaction as the Mikolian walked farther into his office. "It's good to see you again."

Jaron merely inclined his head, pausing a meter in front of the oak desk. "I am here to… propose a condition."

"Go on."

"My superiors want full disclosure of all Federation technology. Complete with any schematics or like information."

Amen sighed, leaning back in his chair. His fingers rubbed his chin in thought. "That's it, huh? I promise that, and you're government will agree to the terms?"

"Yes. Do you accept?"

The President stood, walking around the desk. Jaron caught his eyes, remaining poised even with the blank stare in the human's gaze. "You have a deal, Commander. Tell your leader that I will meet with him-"

"No. The treaty will be drafted under his supervision and agreed upon by you. When, and only when, he sees your signature, will he sign."

Amen took a deep breath, staring at the wall behind his desk. "Very well."

Jaron nodded curtly. "If that is all-"

"No, actually…" the President turned back towards him, a small smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth. "Now that we're going to be allies, I have something I would like you to do."

"What?"

"The Mikolians's ships are known by very few in the quadrant."

"That is true."

"And are virtually undetectable."

"When we want to be."

Amen nodded. "True. True. I have a proposition to make."

"Involving our ships?"

"It will benefit you as well."

"I am listening then."

"I want to convince the Romulans that a new, powerful race is trying to… take over their space."

"The point of that is?"

"The point, Commander, is to offer an alliance with the Romulans."

Jaron's brow wrinkled and his confusion was evident in his words. "So that you both can attack a nonexistent race? … Or my own?"

Amen nodded, a short laugh escaping his lips. "True. But I highly doubt that the Romulans would accept such an offer."

"Then why extend it?"

"To lead it to a non-aggression pact. I want to be safe from the Romulans… if anything were to happen in the next few years."

"And you could accomplish this with my ships?"

Amen smirked. "You just leave that to me. Trust me."

Jaron looked away a moment. "You want me to take my ships into Romulan territory and do what?"

/-/-/-/

/- **_Around the Same Time _**

"So far, so good," Tette muttered, nearly smiling as he piloted the shuttle over his home planet.

"Never say that. Because once it's said… everything just gets worse."

Deanna scowled up at him. "Don't be such a pessimist."

"I'm not. I'm a realist. Just give it a second," he said, brushing past her and walking into the back of the shuttle.

"Ignore him, Commander. You're doing a good job."

"He's probably right. It's been too easy so far. Not so much as a peep when we left the hanger. I would have expected something."

"Well… leaving the atmosphere will be the tricky part," Deanna said.

"That is true, Counselor. There are many probes designed to detect unauthorized exits of Earth's atmosphere. As we are all aware of, we are hardly authorized."

Deanna smirked at the android. "We'll find out in just a second," Tette announced. "Approaching the edge of the _stratosphere_."

Deanna held her breath as she watched the shuttle fly through the Earth's ozone layer. Ten seconds passed and nothing happened. With a sigh of relief, she and Tette broke out into nervous smiles.

"See, Graham doesn't know what he's talking about." Deanna giggled, looking down at the Commander. Data just gazed thoughtfully at them.

"It would appear that-"

The sudden beeping of alarms halted his words, Deanna backing away as Tette frantically searched for the problem.

"Someone's scanning us. They're hailing. Should I respond?"

Both looked to Data, the android nodding. "Only audio."

"Aye, sir." A simple button opened the channel, a man's voice speaking over it.

"Your ship isn't authorized to be leaving Earth's atmosphere. Please identify yourselves."

Data sparred only the shortest of glances to Deanna, immediately speaking to the officer, his voice changing like he had done before.

"This is Commander Delgarian, Starfleet."

"Well, Commander, you should know the procedure. You're not authorized to be leaving, I can't let you pass."

Data looked to the others, Deanna able to see the wheels turning in his head as he thought quickly. "I am sorry you feel that way."

"Wha-" Data deactivated the comm. channel, his fingers flying over the console. Deanna tripped, falling back into the wall, as he accelerated the shuttle to warp.

"What was that for?" She muttered, pushing herself up.

"I apologize, Counselor."

"They're going to catch up to us."

"No they will not. Ships patrolling Earth have only a maximum of Warp Five. This shuttle, however, appears to be traveling at Warp Six point Four. They will not catch up with us soon."

"So, they'll just send someone else after us," Tette complained. "That's what they do."

"Yes, but they will find it difficult to track a shuttle that is traveling in four different directions, none of which are ours."

Deanna smiled, nodding her head. "Nice job, Data."

"Thank you, Counselor."

/-/-/-/

/- **_A Few Days Later _**

"Captain's Log. Stardate, 37301.27.

"I have just received word that the away team has left Earth's orbit and are eight days away from our position." Riker sighed, running his hand through his hair and over his face.

"Eight more days… well, Data estimates that it will be eight days, seven hours, thirty six minutes and… well, I'm sure he said the seconds. I don't care how long it is, I just want them home… soon."

Using his thighs as leverage, Riker pushed himself up, slowly wandering through his ready room. Eventually his legs led him to the floor to ceiling window. He gazed out the black window, watching the stars as they went by, stretching and distorting from the effects of warp.

With a sigh, he continued. "Their message didn't say specifically what they'd found. Actually, they didn't say if they'd found anything at all." He took a deep breath, sighing deeply. "But, then, they wouldn't be returning if they hadn't. Oh well, I could really care less what they found, just if they all return health and okay."

/-/-/-/

/- **_A Week Later _**

"How was it?" Riker asked as Data walked from the transport pod, approaching his Captain as soon as he noticed him.

"Profitable, Captain. We found-"

"Will!"

Riker looked away from Data, smiling broadly as he saw his wife walking from the transport. She dropped her pack to the ground, running up to hug Will. She kissed him, running her hands over his thick beard.

"I missed you, so much," she whispered.

"I missed you too… it's hard keeping track of a three year old by myself." His soft chuckle met her ears. She swatted at his chest, though she was laughing with him.

"You're mean."

He laughed and shook his head, turning back to Data as he slipped his arm around her waist. She leaned against him, resting her head on his chest and rubbing his back.

"I'm sorry. What were you saying?"

"We found what you wanted. Dr. Tanith's office never examined any bodies in the week that President Amen claims. Furthermore-"

"Data. Tell me tonight at the briefing."

"Yes, sir."

Will shook his head, a small smirk on his face, as Data walked away. Deanna slipped from his hold to grab her bag, slinging it over her shoulder as she walked back to him.

"So, do I still have a daughter, or did you loose her while I was away?"

"You still have a happy, health daughter, even though she misses her mother."

"Where is she?"

"Daycare. Right on our way home."

"Good."

/-/-/-/

/- **_Around the Same Time _**

"President Amen has a secret alliance with the Hagan?" Captain Collins commented, looking over to Riker. "What would that offer him? The Hagan have few resources and little respect or recognition."

"No matter what he wants with them," Jayton started, "It would explain a lot."

"Explain what?" Captain Reece asked.

"It would explain his reaction to President Aurik's orders to fight the Hagan vessels- assuming, of course, that the negotiations for such an alliance had already begun," Data informed the table of Captains.

"Of course. Amen wouldn't have wanted Starfleet ships to attack ships of a possible ally. It would look like he had ordered them, or consented to them."

"And when we did attack," Ivinch continued for Reece, "he sent a squad of ships after us to make the Hagan believe that we were disobeying orders."

"When we escaped it only gave Amen an even better chance to discredit us. And possibly use us a scapegoat for anything he plans on doing in the future," Riker thought aloud. "Something like the murder of President Auirk."

"There was one last thing we discovered, Captains. This-" Data said as he placed a data crystal on the desk, "is the official logs of Dr. Tanith's office. Though a basic inspection shows that the doctor received the body, now classified as former President Aurik. A closer search reveals that no body was delivered in the time shown. Nor was Dr. Tainth in his office during three of the hours his logs say he was working on the body's autopsy."

"So the body's a fake?"

"Not necessarily," the android countered, turning to Captain Kaikes. "The fact that official logs were altered and that the body was destroyed after only one doctor allegedly inspected it would suggest that there was a conspiracy of some kind around the body's existence. Though there is not enough evidence to prove that it was faked, there is enough to believe so."

Silence filled the room. For a moment, no one spoke as they tried to understand all that they had heard. As they themselves tried to comprehend what was going on around them.

"So what are we going to do with all this? We don't even know if anyone would believe us."

Riker sighed as he looked to Kaikes. "I am personally taking it to Betazed. Someone will believe us."

/-/-/-/

/- **_Two Weeks Later _**

"Captain's Log. Stardate, 37302.24.

"It's been three weeks since we left _Shadow Land_. Starfleet has dozens of patrols out here looking for us. They're everywhere. It's a miracle that they haven't gone near _Shadow Land _yet. Data tells me that the radiation from the two stars near the station that distort all long range sensors, keeping the station hidden."

Riker let out a sigh as he turned away from the ready room window. "An average trip from _Shadow Land_ to Betazed is five to six days. We've already added sixteen to keep from being found. We had to reduce speed and alter course every few hours. Data says that, at this rate, it will take another seven to eight days."

Collapsing into his chair, Riker rubbed his tired face, stifling a yawn. "I ordered the rest of… "the fleet" to stay at _Shadow Land_. At least that way they won't be directly associated with us, especially if we're caught-"

_"Data to Captain Riker." _

"Computer, end log. What is it, Data?"

_"Could you come out to the Bridge, Captain?" _

Riker sighed, tapping his comm. badge before he rose and walked from his office. "Data?"

The android stood next to his console, ushering the Ensign out when he saw his Captain approaching. Riker walked over to his first officer, his hand on the back of his chair as he looked out the view screen.

Two black ships hovered a few hundred kilometers away, making no movement or even hostile action. "What the hell is a Mikolian ship doing out here?" Riker muttered.

"I do not know, sir."

Riker turned to Worf, ordering, "Hail them."

"Frequencies open, sir."

"This is Captain Riker to Mikolian ship. You are in violation of Federation space. I request-"

But his announcement was cut short as one ship sent a photon torpedo at them, sending Riker to the ground. "What the-? Worf, shields up! Red alert!"

"Aye, sir," the Klingon huffed, immediately red flashes replaced the normal lighting.

"Fire o-"

Riker's sentence died in the noise when both Mikolian ships hit his ship. He stumbled backwards into his chair as some of the impact forced its way past the inertial dampers.

"Shields are down to seventy-seven percent."

"Aim for their phasers."

Worf complied instantly, two red beams hitting the Hagan ships, their shields shimmering as they protected the ship.

Worf continued his firing, reporting _Enterprise_'s weakening shields in steady intervals. After only fifteen minutes of fighting, though, the shields had weakened to only forty-six percent of normal.

"Get us out of here, Data," Riker ordered. The ship pivoted, turning its back to their attackers before jumping to warp.

Riker fell, grasping his chair for support, as he yelled out, "Report!" over the noise.

"Both Hagan vessels fired at our warp nacelles."

"And?"

Data checked his console. "They appear to be running but it may be dangerous to continue at warp."

"Would the danger be less if we stopped?" Data opened his mouth to speak, Riker raising as hand to stop him. "That was rhetorical, Data. We'll need to stay at warp. Reduce speed if you think that will make a difference."

"Aye, sir."

"I want to know immediately if there are any farther problems."

/-/-/-/

/- **_Around the Same Time _**

"Do we peruse them, Commander?"

The Commander looked down at the young Mikolian. His grey eyes shone with his lust for fighting, but he forced down his feelings, shaking his head slowly. "No, those aren't our orders. Resume course."

"Yes, sir."

"I'll be in my private room. Contact me if there are any changes."

"Yes, sir," the young man said once again, no longer paying attention as the commander walked away.

With crisp, even steps, he walked confidently to the back of the command center, stepping through the door to his private room. A slow hiss echoed in the mostly bare room. A glance around was all he sparred before taking a seat behind his desk.

But, before he could savor his rare silence, the chime sounded. "Yes?"

The door opened with his words, as if they were a password, and allowed his first officer entrance.

"Azia? Is there something I can do for you?"

The younger officer stepped in, bowing his head with respect, before he spoke. "Commander, what are we doing being sent into Romulan space? And not even by our own leader-"

"I know, Azia, I know. It is odd, but…"

"Then why are we going?"

Jaron sighed, leaning back in his chair. "Because, Azia, as… feeble as this human president may seem, he wields much power. Power we need. This may be a way to ensure that that power is never tested."

Azia sighed, looking Jaron in the eyes. "Do you really believe that?"

"I must believe it, whether or not I do."

/-/-/-/

/- **_A Few Days Later _**

"This Is LaForge to the Bridge. We need to drop out of warp immediately!"

"What's wrong, Geordie?" The Riker asked as he pushed himself form his chair.

"The warp core is beginning to… over heat. Whatever the Mikolians did to us, they hit the core pretty bad."

"Data?"

"If we stop now," Data began, "We will arrive eighty thousand kilometers from Deep Space Nine. They will be able to detect us."

Riker glanced down at the android, his hand on the man's chair. "We have little choice, Data. Stop the ship as far away as you can."

"Aye, sir."

The stars shrank, returning to their normal points rather than streaks of light. Riker sighed. In clear view of them was the space station.

"Data-"

"Captain? They are hailing us. Should I respond?"

Riker turned to look up at Worf. Could they really not? It would be hours before they had propulsion, and he knew the station had a ship of their own now. They were in no condition to fight.

But admitting surrender? He wouldn't do that. Or perhaps…

"On screen, Commander."

"Aye, sir." Riker turned away from the stunned Klingon, watching as a man's face appeared before him.

_"Commander Riker. What a surprise." _

"Actually, it's Captain Riker… Captain Sisko. And it is that indeed."

The man let out a sigh, the act sounding more like a snort. He eyed Riker suspiciously. _"I know you're a smart man, _Captain_ Riker. You must realize that I have orders to detain you and your ship." _

"No offense, Captain, but your station is hardly adequate to apprehend us, even in our condition."

Sisko openly laughed, stating, _"With your warp engines off-line and shields at minimum? I doubt that, Riker. My station would have enough fire power- not to mention the _Defiant_." _

Riker sighed, not at all shocked that his pathetic bluff was called. "I'm not here to attack you, Captain."

_"Then what are you here for?" _

Riker just looked at him a moment, not quite glaring. "If you'll allow me onto your station… I would like to talk."

_"Talk?" _

"As simple as that."

_"Talk?" _Sisko repeated, nodding his head. _"We'll talk. In one hour."_

/-/-/-/

/- **_Around the Same Time _**

"I don't think they've done what the media has said," Dr. Julian Bashir argued, looking among all of the senior officers around him for some sort of response.

"Julian, I know you're friends with some of them, but we've got to at least consider the possibility that they're really doing all this. That they have done everything your government is saying." The table's attention turned to the young Trill, Jadzia Dax leaving her focus on Julian.

"I agree with Julian. I know these people, sir. They wouldn't do what everyone's been saying. Trust me, sir," Miles O'Brien pleaded, "If they are behind some of this stuff, then they have a damn good reason and I think it's worth hearing."

Sisko looked at each of his senior officers, taking in their faces and recalling where they stood. Looking off the to back, Sisko's gaze rested on Odo. The shapeshifter had briefly explained his neutrality on the situation, claiming that the politics of the Federation affected him very little.

Next, he looked to Kira. Unlike Odo, she had been quite vocal in Riker's defense. Though it had only been on few occasions that he knew the two had interacted, she seemed a loyal friend and an ally for Julian and Miles in their argument.

His eyes turned to Jadzia. Dax had been an old friend of his, stretching far back into her former life. He knew that she held little to the media and politics of anything, but she had always had a level mind. She was merely playing the devil's advocate in that briefing. In all honesty, Sisko wasn't sure what her opinion was.

He glanced at Julian and Miles, the doctor and engineer sitting next to each other. He knew both had befriended many onboard the _Enterprise_, Miles more for he had lived onboard the ship for many years. But even with all that, he still wasn't sure… there was something in the pit of his stomach that was shouting at him to say no.

He sighed, folding his hands together. "Very well, I'll listen to him. But I'm not agreeing with any of you, not until I hear what Riker has to say. I want to speak with you all in three hours. Dismissed."

/-/-/-/

/- **_Around the Same Time _**

"How is your… project coming along?"

Ken chuckled, Amen falling in step with him. "It's coming."

"How long before it's ready?"

Ken sighed, glancing over at the president. "Uh… a year at most. Perhaps longer for some. But it will be ready when you need it."

"Very good. Very good," Amen said with a nod, looking down at the PADD in his hand. "Here, come with me. I want to show you something."

Ken watched, eyebrows furrowing, as Amen entered his access code. The doors opened silently, revealing a long white corridor. "I didn't even know this wing existed," Ken commented as he followed behind Amen.

"Don't feel bad. I find a new room everyday."

Ken chuckled along with the president, the smirk leaving his face as he asked, "Where are we going?"

"You'll see."

Ken waited as Amen punched in his code for a second time, opening the door in front of them. Ken leaned in, trying to see inside.

"A medlab?"

The two walked in, stepping onto a landing towering over the medlab. Ken walked over to the railing, looking down the three stories below them.

"Wow. What the hell are they doing down there?" Catching Ken's eyes, Amen just smirked and looked away.

/-/-/-/

/- **_Around the Same Time _**

"Captain Sisko," Riker greeted, his voice neutral as he stepped inside the briefing room.

Sisko turned to see _Enterprise_'s Captain escorted by two security officers. Riker held himself erect, shoulder square and chin high, his eyes dark as he gazed at the space station's commander.

A curt nod ordered the two men to leave and the door to the conference room slid shut behind them.

"Captain Riker… it's been a while."

"A very long while, sir."

Sisko nodded, his chest rising as he took a deep breath. He pivoted on his foot, turning to face the large windows. "Why are you here, Captain?"

"We're only here because our ship is damaged." Riker sighed as he walked slowly into the room. "My ship was attacked by a race known as the Mikolians. Do you know them?"

Sisko swiveled his head to see Riker, his brows knitted in thought. "It's vaguely familiar."

Riker nodded. "Well… it's not really important who they are. We… let's just say we had to get away from them and it led us here. That is, we had to drop out of warp here."

"We haven't detected any unknown ships, Captain," Sisko informed Riker, his body having turned back towards the other Captain at some point in their conversation.

"I'm not accusing you of anything, Captain," Riker said immediately, hearing the anger rising in the other man's voice. "No. It's just a statement of fact. I just need to know if they came here, or if you know where they went."

There was a pause for a long moment, Sisko taking in the older Riker before him. He had changed since the last time they met- however brief. He seemed more confident and yet far less innocent. Far more experience and far more distance.

Sisko's sigh broke the odd hum of silence. "That's all well and good but… that doesn't change the fact that you're renegades. And that I have orders to capture and turn you in."

"No, you're right. But may I have the chance to persuade you to… forget that we were ever here?"

Sisko paused again, his eyes meeting Riker's as he thought through the proposal. "And how do you plan on doing that?"

A slight smirk tugged the corners of Riker's lips. "With proof… proof that Amen nor the media will even tell you."

"I'm listening."

/-/-/-/

/- **_A Few Days Later _**

Commander Jaron stood with his body straight, and nearly rigid, as he watched the scene play out on the viewscreen. His face was void of anything, showing nothing to his crew, as he watched.

Red beams of light emanated from the ship, a large explosion at the end of them. Debris hit the shields, shown by the glimmering of green. The ship rocked softly with the shock wave, riding it through with ease.

With a deep sigh, he turned to his friend, stepping up to his console. "I don't like this, Azia." He looked back to the image of the destroyed space station.

"I don't care that this Human wants with us pestering the Romulans, he just better clean this up."

Jaron nodded, eye never leaving the viewscreen. "Get us out of here, Hishna."

"Yes, sir."

The stars warped around them as they moved away from the scene. "I hope your wish will be answered, Azia. I, too, do not fancy being known as a murderer."

"We already are. It matters not what other will think."

/-/-/-/

/- **_A Week Later _**

"What is it? And this had better be good," the Betazoid Commander mumbled as he stumbled into the command center only half-awake.

A Lieutenant nodded slightly, moving to his console. "I detected a ship on long-range sensors nearly an hour ago, sir." The Betazoid Commander starred at him waiting for the good part. "It's the _Enterprise_, sir."

"The _Enterprise_? How far out are they?"

"Two hour at their present speed, sir."

The Commander nodded. "Their approach? Is it hostile?"

"No, sir. Shields down, weapons uncharged. They're not here to fight, sir."

He nodded slowly. "Then what are they here for?"

"To blow us up when we're not looking, is what!"

Both men spun around in surprise as they heard the familiar, scratchy voice. "Admiral Stephens?"

"_Enterprise_, ay? Commander Riker isn't dumb, Commander, he's got something up his sleeve, or else he wouldn't be here."

"Of course, sir. But to harm Betazed seems pointless, especially considering who his wife is."

The Admiral glared at the young Lieutenant. "What are you?"

"Lieutenant Steel, sir."

"Really?" He asked sarcastically, turning his head away from the young man and back to the viewscreen. "That wasn't exactly what I meant. But give him time, and he will somehow do just that."

The Commander's brow rose, barely containing his sigh of impatience. "Shall we hail them?"

"Oh, do, please, Commander Sampson. I want to speak with Riker."

/-/-/-/

/- **_Around the Same Time _**

"They're hailing us, Captain."

Riker nodded, pushing himself from the Captain's chair, pulling down his shirt as he approached the viewscreen. "On screen, Mr. Worf."

_"Commander Riker, what a pleasant surprise,"_ Admiral Stephens said as his old, white-bearded face appeared on the screen.

Riker held his tongue, choosing not to say anything that could further kill his already dead career. "Admiral."

_"What do you want, Riker?" _

"I want a lot of things, Admiral."

_"Then what do you want here?" _

"I want you to listen."

Stephens openly laughed at Riker's words. _"Listen? To what?"_

"Give me two hours and you can see for yourself." Riker turned to Worf, a slight gesture cutting the Admiral's words off. "Data, Deanna." The two officers stood, following Riker up the ramp. "Commander, Lieutenant, you too."

Graham and Tette glanced at each other, a look of dread hidden behind professional facades. Falling in behind the Consoler, the two walked onto the turbolift, turning just as the door closed behind them.

"Where are we going, Captain?"

"To the planet, Commander."

"Right," he muttered, sighing as he backed up to the wall.

Tette looked around at the four others in the lift. Though he would say that the other three he knew quite well after living with them- that is, well enough to comfortably hold a conversation with- the Captain was another story. For one, it wasn't even his captain. For another, he was just a hard man to understand.

The lift stopped suddenly, its doors opening to a short hallway just outside the shuttle bay. Deanna walked out first, chivalry dictating such an order. Riker walked behind her, his hand settling on the small of her back.

The other three stepped out behind them, walking silently into the shuttle bay, heading for the Captain's Yacht. Tette sighed, "And why are we going down again? I mean, just the five of us?"

"Because who's going to listen to a man surrounded by security?"

"Not like they're going to believe us anyway."

"Think happy thoughts, Lieutenant Graham. Happy thoughts."

/-/-/-/

/- **_Around the Same Time _**

"What's going on here?"

"Ambassador Troi?" Commander Sampson asked, surprised by her sudden appearance. He turned away, looking behind himself at Lwaxana, flanked by the Trill Ambassador. Clearing his throat, he made to begin his explanation.

But she interrupted before he could begin. "I asked you a question… Commander. Why do you have all these security officers here? And armed with phasers pointed at the bay's exit?"

"Well, uh-"

"Well, what, Commander?"

"Admiral Stephens ordered it, ma'am. Commander Riker, and who knows who, is about to wall through those doors-"

"Yes, I know all that. I also know that they came without weapons and in a peaceful manner. This is not how they should be greeted."

"But they're renegades. President Amen and Starfleet have ordered their immediate arrest."

"I know that as well, Commander. And yes, Commander, I know that they were coming. I have many good sources. Oh, and Commander," Lwaxana began, Sampson looking at her as they could hear the shuttle landing. "Don't forget that on board the _Enterprise_ is my daughter and her husband."

Sampson nodded mutely, looking to see the doors opening. Two figures barely had a foot out before the security team moved in on them, weapons drawn and aimed at them.

Lwaxana immediately recognized the first as Will. She was able to sense, but not yet see, her daughter behind him.

"My, what a party." Glancing up, Riker spotted Lwaxana and Pell hanging back. He sighed, looking back to find Commander Sampson approaching him. "So, you're superiors don't even want to know how much they're been screwed over? It's fine with me. Just a waste of my time."

"Save your breath, Riker. You've got nothing and you know it," he spat back, inclining his head as a signal to lead them away.

"Really? Would I have come here and shown- no, given myself to you if I didn't have something? I had you walking in circles- you would never have found me."

The Commander watched Riker's back as he was walked away, listening to his every word. But he said nothing in response. And, after a moment, followed behind.

"Where are they taking them?"

"There are secure quarters in the Federation Consulate."

"We're coming with you," Pell told him, walking faster to get ahead.

"No, you're not."

"Yes," Lwaxana hissed, "we are."


	5. Year 2: 2373, continued again

_Author's Note: _Hey all... I'm a little dissappointed with the lack of reviewage... but I guess I'll update anyway, 'cause I'm nice like that.

/-/-

**Year Two: 2373**

"An interesting group to bring with you, Riker. Yourself- daring enough. Your wife- an interesting twist. The android- somewhat logical. And two security officers- both unarmed?"

Riker's face never faltered as he watched Admiral Stephens from behind the forcefield. "I'm not here to do anything-"

"Last time you were here, you bombed a meeting with some of the Federation's highest officials."

"None of them were harmed." The Admiral huffed. "Anyway, to answer your question, these four formed the away team that found what I'm here to show you."

"Found? How?"

Riker smirked, the right corner of her mouth curving in amused defiance. "Wouldn't that just make your day?"

"Your cooperating with me would make my day."

"I'll cooperate." Riker sighed, standing slowly and approaching the forcefield. The Admiral stepped back just slightly.

"Right now _Enterprise_ is holding position hours away, staying hidden from your sensors. The only thing is, if they don't hear from me in… oh, I'd say an hour, and every hour on the hour after that… they have orders to broadcast everything we found, including audio record of a secret meeting between President Amen and two Mikolian representatives.

"Along with audio and visual records of what really happened at Ketrel last year- Federation records that could not have been faked. Records that will show everyone what a huge mistake the Federation made and then chose to hide from its people. What do you think the population will think about that?"

Stephens stepped closer to the forcefield, holding Riker's gaze. "You're bluffing."

"Just check with your listening post. They started to back off the minute we left in the shuttle."

Stephens' nostrils flared, ears red with anger. Turning his head quickly, his eyes found a young Ensign behind the control panel. "Do it."

"Aye, sir." A moment later, he looked back at the Admiral. "Confirmed, sir. The _Enterprise_ has been off our sensors for nearly ninety minutes."

"Fine, Riker. Let's see this… grand information. Where is it?"

"Data?"

The android stepped forward, Tette, Graham, and Deanna remaining seated on the bench in the back. Pulling up his sleeve, the android opened a small section on his arm, pulling from it the crystal and a small information chip from a tricorder, presenting it to Riker.

"Give that to me through here." The Admiral said, a small gap forming in the forcefield. "I'll have it looked at-"

"No. I'm not giving it to you."

"Then why-"

"I'll give it to Ambassador Troi. I trust that she'll actually judge it fairly… and return it."

"She's also your mother-in-law."

"Fine. Give it to Ambassador Pell. You can clearly see that we're of no relation."

Stephens looked over to the quiet Trill official, then back to Riker. "If-"

"This is no trick, Admiral. All I need is a communicator to speak to my tactical officer. That's all."

His nostrils flared like before, the top of his ears glowing darker shades of red. "Ensign, see to that."

"Yes, sir," the Ensign said his words dying away on his lips, as the Admiral stormed from the room. He sighed, glancing from the two free Ambassadors to the five in the bridge, before stepping outside.

"Well, that's one bright boy, leaving us here with you."

"Two people with access codes even," Pell quipped, finishing Lwaxana's thought.

"Just take these."

The Betazoid nodded, reaching her hand through the opening in the forcefield to take the two data chips. "We'll be back soon."

Riker just nodded, watching them leaving before turning away.

/-/-/-/

/- **_A Few Days Later _**

**_"Leave! How did you get all this?" _**

**_Riker looked up to see an amazed Betazoid, sending the young security officer away. "Good, huh?" _**

**_"It's amazing… but impossible." _**

**_The Captain shrugged. Then a small satisfied smirk appeared on his lips. "Have you shown it to the Council yet?" _**

**_"No, I'm on my way there. I just wanted to come by and see you all first." Riker nodded, glancing behind him at Deanna, his wife still asleep in the early hours of the morning. Lwaxana noticed the move, but said nothing on the matter. _**

**_"You do realize how difficult is will be to make them accept its authenticity?" _**

**_He simply nodded. "I do." _**

**_"Tell them to check Earth's security logs in North America. We didn't disguise ourselves until the last mouth or so. There was an instance that they nearly caught Deanna." _**

**_The Ambassador nodded, her eyes falling back to the sleeping form of her daughter. "I will, but that will only prove that you were on Earth and evaded capture. But I will hold it, incase." _**

**_"Good," Riker said with a nod. _**

**_"Mother," Deanna said quickly before her mother turned away from her. She looked up, catching her eye. _****"I'm sorry about your friends- the Ambassadors on Earth." **

**"Yes… well at least now I know what happened to them." _Deanna nodded slowly. _**

**_Then Lwaxana turned away, taking a step away from the forcefield. "Did Enterprise truly have orders to broadcast all that to the public?" _**

**_Riker looked up as Lwaxana turned back around, catching her eye. Another smirk graced his lips. "I guess you'll never know." _**

**_"You were bluffing, Riker… but you are quite good at it." _**

/-/-/-/

/- **_A Week Later _**

"Riker is on Betazed! For how long?"

"Eight days."

"And I just heard about it?!" Ken flinched as Amen shouted at him.

"Hey, don't shoot the messenger," he joked, not feeling as amused as his smile suggested. "We just were told by the Ambassadors on Betazed."

"And?"

Ken's face paled, his smile completely faded. "Riker brought proof that Aurik ordered their engagement with the Hagan ships…. And that we have an alliance with them."

"What? Where did they get that?"

"I- I don't know," he fumbled through, the young Human backing away from the President.

"They can't possibly believe it. None of them will believe Riker; they've got to realize that he's desperate enough to fake those records."

"But how could-"

"Riker," Amen hissed, suddenly finding himself in Ken's face. "Could find a way. And that is what the Council will hear from us."

"Right," slipped passed his lips, Ken's body still in fear of Amen's anger. The man turned away almost as soon as the words left his mouth. Ken looked at him, his mind working fast to think of a way out of the room. "Shou-should I go an-and get a shuttle prepared?"

Slowly the President turned towards him, his eyes cold as stone, nearly unseeing, as he gazed at Ken. "Yes. Yes… I want to leave for Betazed as soon as possible."

"I'll tell the Council once the shuttle is being prepped."

"No!" Ken jumped visibly as the sharp tone of Amen's voice. "No, I don't want them to know of my arrival. Just have the shuttle ready in two hours."

"Yes, sir." Amen moved away and Ken left as soon as the President was no longer looking at him.

"Riker, you idiot. You just might spoil all of my plans."

/-/-/-/

/- **_A Week Later _**

"Sir," a Romulan Sub-Commander yelled out to him commanding officer as he saw him enter. The Commander sighed, walking over to him as he scratched his yellowing sink.

"What is it, Larnok?"

The Romulan hesitated only a moment before reporting. "We've lost contact with two more of our outposts in the past three hours. Outposts 57 and 28 gamma."

"More attacks. Do they appear to have any plan?" He asked, looking down at the screen. Both stations were hardly near each other, seventeen others between them.

"No, sir. The attacks are random and unprovoked."

The Commander nodded. "Who are they?"

"Still unknown. We've never met any of their species; or at least not their ships."

"Send four warbirds to intercept them," he said impassively, turning to walk away.

"We can't, sir," the Sub-Commander responded, looking slowly at him as the Commander turned back around.

"And why not, Sub-Commander?"

"Uh… their ships appear to have some sort of primitive cloaking mechanism. Our sensors can't pick them up once they go to warp."

The Commander sighed, looking down at the console. "Primitive? We can detect our own ships-"

"Yes, sir, that's true but… these ships' cloaking abilities are slightly different. We just can't-"

"Fine. Warn all of the outposts in the neutral zone and the areas they've been attacking. Tell them to stay on high alert."

"Yes, sir."

/-/-/-/

/- **_A Few Days Later _**

"I want to see the prisoners."

"I'm sorry, sir, but no one is allowed to see them at the moment, Admiral Keshna's orders."

Amen took a deep breath, trying to conceal his shock by the young Ensign's lack of interest and ignorance of his position. "You must have misunderstood. I am President Amen of Earth. These prisoners are being held under my orders. I must see them."

"Again, I'm sorry, sir, but my orders are quite clear. No one is to pass through those doors without her approval."

A frustrated sigh escaped him as he turned away from the security desk. "I would like to speak with this Admiral Keshna."

"I'm afraid she's not here."

"Then how can I contact her?"

"I don't know, sir."

"Then what do you know? You know what? Just… just get me someone who knows what they're talking about," Amen said, his voice growing louder with his frustration.

"Can I help you, sir?" Came a British voice from behind Amen, the President turning quickly to see who was there.

"Yes, this idiot of an Ensign won't let me in."

"Of course not. Admiral Keshna ordered it off limits."

"Do you know who I am," he glanced quickly at his collar, "Lieutenant-?"

"Shavers. And yes, you're Earth's President. But the Admiral's orders-"

"I don't care about her orders!"

"Sir, they are locked securely in the brig."

"No! They should be on their way to Earth to be tried and court martialed!"

"As of this moment, it is still being decided whether or not that court martial is even necessary," Shavers informed him.

"What!" The Lieutenant flinched slightly by his sudden outburst, shaking his head weakly.

"Yes, sir. Riker himself found evidence against the charges that could possibly dismiss them."

Amen brushed by the Lieutenant before his last few words could be spoken, marching briskly away.

/-/-/-/

/- **_A Week Later _**

"Daddy! Daddy!"

Deanna's eyes sprang open, her mind fuzzy as she tried to remember why she was awake.

"Daddy!"

She turned her head, the sudden wave of terror and sorrow overtaking her. "Liz?" she said unclear her breath. Throwing off her blanket, she quickly left her room, walking as fast as she could in the dark.

"Honey?" she called as the girl's door open. "Lights. Dim."

The room lit itself dimly, allowing her to see Liz curled up on her bed, shaking slightly through her sobs.

Deanna sat down on the edge of the bed, resting her hand on the child's back. "Hey, it's okay. It's just a dream. It's okay, I'm right here," the mother soothed, pulling Liz gently from the bed and onto her lap. "It's okay. Mommy's right here."

Liz didn't say anything, her sobs growing louder instead. Deanna just sat there, rubbing Liz's small back, rocking her to try and calm her.

"It's okay, Liz," Deanna said as her daughter finally quieted some.

"I… miss… daddy!" she cried between sobs, fresh tears spilling down her cheeks.

"I know, honey, I miss him too."

"When… he… come… back?"

"Soon, baby, really soon."

"Pwomise?" she said with a hiccup, turning her face to meet her mother's eyes.

"I promise."

/-/-/-/

/- **_Around the Same Time _**

"What's this?"

"Have a seat, please, Commander."

Riker glanced behind himself to see the security officers that had led him there were taking place by the door. With a deep breath, he took a few steps over to the chair before looking up at the woman who had spoken. "Captain, actually… Admiral."

The Trill smirked, nodding her head. "Captain, then. Have a seat."

"Not until you answer my question."

"Think of this, Captain, as your court martial."

He sighed, shaking his head as he sank into the chair. "What do you want to know?"

"Let's start with the _U.S.S Omega_ and the other ships."

With another deep breath, he said, "They had no right to be taking us as prisoners-"

"Yes, I see that. But the fact still remains that you fired upon your own ships. They were under orders, where were yours?"

Riker sighed, "We didn't fire first. That's in the log. We fired, when they fired."

"Yes, I can see the logs just fine, Captain. And I see that you had been firing for hours before this ever occurred."

"We were experiencing a… difficulty with our phasers, that wasn't intentional. No one was hit… not badly."

"Yes, I read that as well. But I happen to know that it can't possibly be that hard to fix such a problem."

"I wouldn't know, ma'am. I'm not an engineer."

"Yes, well, your engineer should have." Tongue in cheek, Riker nodded, his eyes darting around the room to avoid the Admiral's.

"Captain, I see all these facts. You knew your orders from President Aurik and you followed them. Those charges will be dropped. And, perhaps, you didn't fire first- and that's assuming everything you did wasn't to pester them into firing at you. But that doesn't change the fact that you destroyed the _U.S.S. Omega_."

"Yes, and that was an error on my part. We had only intended on taking out their engines. It was an accident that we hit-"

"So you were firing the phasers?"

"No, ma'am, but-"

"But nothing. If you did not fire, then it was the fault of your tactical officer."

"Yes but I neglected to remind him of the newer versions of the warp nacelles on a ship like the _Omega_."

"Ah, I had no idea that it was the Captain's responsibility to keep his tactical officers updated on all the new ships coming out."

"It was a very new configuration, I had just barely heard of it. I didn't think that he would have known, or noticed."

"And that makes it your fault. Uhhun, I see now. It's your fault that your tactical officer hit their nacelles because you forgot about the new configuration. Now that we've got that down."

"Admiral-"

"Captain! The pure and simple fact is that President Amen and the media have done a damn good job of discrediting you. Very few people like you at the moment. Now, with what we have here, I'm sure that I can arrange some of the charges to be dropped. Evading capture and destruction of the _U.S.S. Omega_, however, I may not be able to."

Riker nodded, heaving a sigh as he thought. "Can you assure me that the other ships, their captains and crew, will have light sentences? They don't deserve punishment."

"Evading capture, though serious, does not have a very high sentence, Captain. At worst the entire crew will get a slap on the wrist and their Captain removed. At best, the Captain will get a slap on the wrist. But I can try, Captain."

"Thank-you."

"You, however, will suffer a far worse punishment. As will many your crew, I imagine."

"I understand that, ma'am."

The Trill nodded solemnly, finishing with, "I'll try, Captain, but I can't promise you how light I can get any of your punishment."

"I don't care about my punishment, ma'am. I'm more worried for my crew and the crews of the other ships."

She nodded, smiling at his selflessness. "Dismissed, Captain."

/-/-/-/

/- **_July, Two Months Later _**

"Personal Log. Stardate, 37307.20.

"For the past four months I have been under close watch… most of the time in the brig. The forces that be have been kind enough to let me out once in a while to see my family. It's amazing that they're letting me record this now. This has been my first chance to do so.

"Most charges have been dropped as Admiral Keshna said. Only the Captains of the other ships are charged with evasion of capture- not much is being done about it. All of _Enterprise_ has been excused, excluding myself. I have a feeling Lwaxana and Ambassador Pell had a large hand in that."

Riker sighed, collapsing onto his bench before running a hand through his hair. "Uh, let's see, where to begin. A lot of things have changed in the past months. For one, _Enterprise_ has been almost permanently stationed around Betazed. At least the crew has had the small privileges of occasional visits to the planet.

"Uh, the location of our other ships is still unknown by the authorities, but Data says he's found a secure way to speak with them. Everything's fine back at _Shadow Land_."

Riker forced the air from his lungs, sighing as he tried to put his thoughts into words. "Uh… after reviewing… and re-reviewing and re-reviewing the data recovered from Earth, I have been told by Lwaxana that… that certain Federation governments are attempting to protest against Earth. Some have even gone as far as suggesting that either Earth would have to leave the Federation… or they would.

"I know for sure that Amen won't leave… so I don't know what will happen to these other planets. But I believe their threats to leave… that alone will kill Amen." A soft chuckle came from his lips as he spoke, quickly sobering.

"Amen is continuing to deny all that they've found. Earth media isn't even talking about it at all. No one's saying much anyway. Especially not to me."

/-/-/-/

/- **_Two Weeks Later _**

_"Jaron, I have something else to add to your orders,"_ Amen said as soon as he could see the Mikolian.

The Commander sighed, looking away. "What is it?" He said, almost distantly, as he looked back to Amen.

_"Ah, nothing too much. I want you to hit these three targets." _

Jaron's brow rose as he looked at the screen. The small screen went blank for a moment as it transformed into a map. His scowl was quickly forgotten as he noticed what it was of. "These are three Federation outposts."

_"Yes. There is a mere total of seven hundred officers onboard. Minimum casualties." _

Jaron shook his head as Amen's image reappeared. The man was insane. "These are your own people. How can you-"

_"Trust me, Commander. Just hit these three… and a few more Romulan outposts… but take a few more days in between. You should calm yourself, some. You're becoming slightly too excited." _

Jaron huffed, ignoring Amen's raised eyebrow. "There is no reason to hurt the Romulans, much less your own people."

_"Oh, Commander,"_ he said with a small laugh in his voice. _"There is a reason for everything, whether or not_ you_ see it. Report back in… whenever you are finished. Good luck, Commander."_

"But-" The screen went blank with men's lost word. Jaron's fist slammed on the table, groaning with anger as he did so.

"Humans…"

/-/-/-/

/- **_A Few Days Later _**

Riker looked up quickly as he heard the forcefield deactivate. Two security officers stood there, flanked by a Trill Admiral.

"Admiral… Keshna?"

"You remembered my name, I'm impressed."

"Good memory," he said with a shrug, standing slowly. "What's this all about?"

"You've been officially released. Get out of here, Captain."

Riker glanced from her to the Ensign to the other Ensign before looking back to the Admiral. "Are you serious?"

"Yes."

"Just like that?"

"Yes."

"I thought I still had another… three months."

A soft laugh came from her lips. "In three months, I highly doubt Betazed will still be part of the Federation. Then we'll have no reason to hold you at all."

"But it hasn't happened yet."

"To be completely frank with you, Riker," the Trill said, stepping into the brig. "I don't actually think you've done anything… and I have almost complete control over your future. And now I'm saying you can leave. I'd take the offer before I have to take it back."

"Very true. Thank-you."

She nodded. "Get out of here, Riker."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Oh, and Riker," he turned to look at her, his foot just outside the cell. "Good luck, you've still got a tough road ahead of you."

"Yeah. I'll see you… maybe." And with that he walked away.

/-/-/-/

/- **_Around the Same Time _**

"More! More!" Liz yammered, slapping her pudgy hands together, giggling softly. Lwaxana smiled brightly as she looked down at the girl by her side, clinging tightly to her leg.

Glancing at the musicians before them, she saw the two men smile at the child, immediately beginning to play another song. Lwaxana's eyes slipped closed as she listened to the gentle, chaotic rhythm of the Betazoid music.

Liz's hands smacked together again, giggles erupting once again. Lwaxana put her arm around her small shoulders, turning her slightly away. _"Come now, Little One, I believe it is time for us to get back." _

"Me go back you house?"

"No, I'm taking you somewhere special."

_"Up!" _she thought telepathically to Lwaxana, her thoughts excited at the prospect of playing. Her hands instantly thrust themselves into the air, showing Lwaxana that she wanted to be picked up.

With an exaggerated groan, Lwaxana straighten, the girl now in her arms. _"You, Little One, are getting far too big."_ She just giggled harder.

"Bye-bye!" She called to the musicians, the men smiling as they continued to play. And, just as suddenly as she did that, her attention moved to some painting.

"You know, your mother loved coming here all the time…" 

/-/-/-/

/- **_Around the Same Time _**

_"Close your eyes, Little One, this is a surprise."_

With a small giggle, she closed her eyes, cheeks and nose scrunching as she did. "Mine look now?"

"Not yet."

Another giggle came from her as she set her hands over her eyes. "Mine look now?"

"No."

"Now?"

"One more second." Lwaxana smirked herself as she looked up, seeing her daughter before her.

"Now?"

"Yes, now."

Instantly with the words, her hands fell to her side and her eyes opened. "Daddy!" She screamed, wiggling from Lwaxana's hold and running away from the older woman.

Riker loosened his hold on Deanna some, barely able to contain both his smile and his laughter as his daughter clutched onto his leg.

"Hey there, kid. Have you been good for your mother?"

"Uh-hun," she nodded as her father picked her up. "Mine missed you."

"I missed you too, honey. Let's go home."

/-/-/-/

/- **_A Few Weeks Later _**

"My, what a beautiful day, don't you think?"

Ken watched as Amen turned to him. "I- I guess. A little chilly for mid-summer."

Amen shrugged the comment off, starting to walk away from his aid. Ken sighed, jogging slightly to catch up with the President. "Uh, Mr. President, I have to tell you something-"

"Something can wait," Amen interrupted, pausing a moment, letting his hand run over a flower petal. "Trill Lilus- finally in bloom… For first time in a very long while, Ken, I am having a nice day," the President said with the slightest of smiles, continuing to walk through the garden.

"Well, that's quite amazing considering that the Federation is in chaos, dozens of your supporters are turning against you and Riker is being released from prison."

"Yes, all that can be put on hold-" Amen stopped suddenly, turning to Ken, the young man almost running into Amen. "What was that about Riker?"

Ken gulped; fear was visible on his face. "Betazed just sent word that he was released from their custody… ten days ago. They claim that there was little proof to keep him there any longer."

"What?" Amen turned away, taking a deep breath. "Damn you, Riker."

"You are really obsessing over him, aren't you?"

Ken backed away as Amen glared at him. "I am not obsessing! Riker is messing up all of my plans. At least, had he stayed in Betazed control, he would have been slightly more discredited. But now…"

"Now he's free," Ken finished, nodding in understanding.

"Don't remind me! Come on. We have much to do."

/-/-/-/

/- **_A Week Later _**

"Thank-you all for coming here on such short notice," Sisko said, looking out at his senior staff as they all sat around the briefing room table. It was nearly midnight, but what he had to say was important. More than that, it was necessary that they know.

Bashir stifled a yawn, looking up at Sisko from his seat. "What's so important that we had to get up at this hour to hear it?"

Sisko sighed. He looked around at each member at the table. Kira, his Bajoran First Officer, sat to his left. It was true that this news would only impact her world slightly, but it was enough. The same went for the Constable sitting next to her.

At the far end of the table, the doctor sat, waiting for his answer. Across from him was the Chief. Both of the Humans would be affected by the news as much as he. And then there was Jadzia on his right. She would be torn the most.

"Two hours ago, the governments of Betazed, Bolius, Vulcan, and Trill, in protest of Earth's new administration, all formally repealed their… their positions within the Federation. The Telkar, O'Kamp, and Dekarians have done the same."

Sisko's words echoed throughout the room, everyone shocked to silence by his words. Dax just starred at her hands, unsure of what she was supposed to make of the news.

Finally, after minutes of silence, Kira spoke up. "They did what? They left the Federation because of President Amen?"

"Apparently so. According to what I was told, which was very little, new evidence was brought to light. All of which the Earth government is still denying. Though others seemed to take it to heart."

"So what's going to happen now?" Jadzia's question was like a whisper. Sisko would have missed it if it weren't for how quiet the room was. The Trill looked up at her longtime friend; he could see she was scared of what would happen to her.

Sisko looked away, as if ashamed of his next words. "The Earth government claims… that with the removal of the other four major planets, it has sole control over Starfleet and the Federation since it is the only remaining member of the five on the Federation Council.

"Amen has ordered… that all officers who is from any planet removing itself from the Federation… be removed from duty and sent back to their home unless a letter of recommendation is made from a senior, _Federation _Starfleet officer and excepted by the Earth government."

"He's got to be insane," Miles quipped. "He can't even fathom the number of officers from those seven planets that are in Starfleet."

"We alone have a compliment of… one hundred and thirty total out of our… four hundred officers," Bashir estimated, well aware that one of those one hundred and thirty was sitting with him.

"Even with all the Bajorans we have, we can't run the station if we lose a hundred people," Kira reminded him, not that Sisko needed the words.

"It's doubtable that the President will grant you that many letters of recommendation to keep them all," Odo added.

"He'll probably invent a limit of ten in a few days," Jadzia retorted, the Trill slowly slouching farther in her chair.

The entire table looked at her, as if for the first time realizing that she was Trill. "Jadzia, we'll find a way to keep you here."

"Thanks, Julian, but we don't know what Amen is planning."

"That's true. There was one last part of my orders."

"You've got to be kidding me."

"There's more?" Miles added to Julian's frustrated remark.

"Yes. It states that for anyone traveling from the above mentioned worlds… you have to have permission from Earth to travel to Federation "owned" stations and/or outposts. Which means, even if Jadzia resigned, she couldn't stay here without permission."

Julian sighed, "There's got to be something we can do. To help Jadzia and all the others here."

Sisko sighed, standing from his chair. He knew that all eyes were on him as he walked to the window, starring out at space. "There is one thing I've been considering… Captain Riker spoke briefly with me before his ship left. I'm starting to be convinced…"

His words trailed off as he looked back to his senior staff. It seemed evident that they had already caught onto his train of thought. "If we break away, we'll be free of whatever restrictions and control Earth tries to put on us. It… it might be for the better."

Again, the room was hit was a deafening silence. Everyone looked from one to the other, curious as to what everyone else's reaction had been. Trying to see what they thought of the idea.

"It looks like my government already decided for me," Jadzia replied sarcastically, breaking the silence that had fallen over them.

"Technically, Captain, my opinion doesn't really apply. Earth can't tell me to do anything," Kira said with a small smile. Odo nodded in agreement with the Major's decision, he being in the same situation.

Then Sisko's eyes turned to the two in the back. The only other two Humans on the senior staff. They were the two that he really needed an answer from. Julian looked to the Chief, thinking for a moment about his answer. Miles had family, but they were all with him. Julian, however, would not be able to easily see them for some time, if ever.

Miles looked back to the Captain, "If that's your decision, then I'm with you, sir."

"Same here, Captain."

The Captain smiled at his crew, he was always proud of them. It was no different in that moment.

/-/-/-/

/- **_Around the Same Time _**

O'Brien wearily entered his quarters. He dropped himself onto his bed, putting his feet up on the coffee table. The senior staff had spoken for hours about the situation, both as the commanding voices of the station and amongst each other as friends.

He was exhausted, physically and mentally, but it was nearing seven in the morning. Besides, the amount of Raktijino he had drunk during the meeting, he doubted if he'd ever get to sleep.

"Miles?" He turned with the sound of his wife's voice, surprised that she was already awake. "Where have you been?"

"I'm sorry. Captain Sisko called a last minute meeting. It lasted a lot longer than I thought it would."

"What was so important that he needed to get you all out of bed?"

Miles sighed, looking up at her. He smiled when he saw that she was carrying their son in her arms. But his smile vanished immediately when he realized that his son would never see Earth. Not for a while, at least.

"Nothing you won't find out about soon. Captain Sisko is going to make an announcement in an hour."

"What about?"

The Irishman sighed again, slowly shaking his head.

/-/-/-/

/- **_November, A Month Later _**

"Captain's Log: Stardate: 37311.18.

"Thirteen planets, so far, have left the Federation. Eight colonies, three stations, and five outposts have done the same. Every hour, it seems, someone else is as well." Riker sighed, running his hand through his hair.

"This wasn't what I had expected to happen. I had expected them to impeach him or… something, I don't know. I really don't know what I expected, just… just not this.

"But I guess it was inevitable. Amen wouldn't have backed down. And I guess that, deep down, I realized this from the beginning. All year, I think, I knew somehow that the Federation wouldn't survive.

"We are on our way to civil war… and everyone, I think, knows this. I can feel it, I don't doubt that plenty others can too."

His knees collapsed from under him as he sank down into the chair, his breath leaving him as he did so. "This… this whole thing is my fault. I know that Deanna would say something about doing what I had to do and that it's not. And maybe that's true. But the truth of the matter is that… that I have done a lot of things in the past few months that I'm not proud of and plenty of things that have led to this…

"And that makes me feel guilty, whether or not I am…

"Computer, end log."

/-/-

So let's see a few more reviews... otherwise I might... take more time to update. (I can't really threaten much more after all the time I've put into this).

Hugs, JD


	6. Year 3: 2374

Author's Note: Hey there! Don't know about the rest of you guys, but here we're having some of the loveliest weather we've had since... forever ago. (Unless you count school-closing blizzards to count as lovely weather, because I certainly do!)

Well, here's Year 3. I hope you enjoy it!

/-/-

**Year Three: 2374**

/-/-/-/

/- _**Unknown Time**_

He shook in his corner, shivering as he rubbed his arms. The cell was cold. Maybe it was winter outside. Or maybe they were just doing it to annoy him.

He sighed, his breath coming out shaking. He could see the white vapors as they dissolved in the air. He hadn't seen his breath in years. Not since he was a boy.

He shivered again. They hadn't come from him in days. At least he thought they were days. He'd only been given two meals, maybe it had only been two days then. Maybe…

Time was impossible to tell in his cell. No real light, no constant food, sleep whenever… he tried though. It must have been about two years. Six, for all he knew.

_Everything was spinning. He had hit his head, he could tell. Something sticky was on his cheek. It was uncomfortably pulling at the hairs on his face _

_His eyes blinked open just as the pod jolted. A tractor beam came to mind, he must have been found by someone. They would be pulling him into their shuttlebay. Enterprise? No, they would have hailed. _

_He turned slowly in his seat, his head drooping. Someone pulled open the door. He winced, the light hurting his already throbbing head. He sighed, glancing up to see that three Starfleet officers were standing in the bay. _

"_Hey, he-"_

_Two of the officers cut him off as they grabbed his arms, pulling him from the chair._

He let out a shaky breath, rocking. It seemed colder. His skin burned from the cold, his fingers and toes were numb.

He swallowed, trying to focus on something other than the bitter cold. It was hard… it was so cold.

What he wouldn't give for a nice warm bed and a hot meal. Not the replicated stuff. And maybe some wine… real wine.

His eyes slipped closed, his movement slowing. He was so cold.

/-/-/-/

/- _**Mid-March**_

"Captain's Log: Stardate: 37403.14

"It has been four months since the Federation Council was disbanded and the Federation split in half. And every day, it feels like, dozens more of our personnel leave. Most are humans returning to Earth. Each shift has been whittled down to skeleton crews. Everyone's tired, and scared- scared of what will happen to us and with Earth. But no one's showing it. Not to me, and not outwardly to anyone else."

Sisko sighed as he looked out the translucent door. Barely six of the normal twelve were working. Dax in particular was burned out; she had been working thirteen hours a day for the past two weeks.

Rubbing the back of his neck, he pushed himself from his desk, turning to look out the window. "I've heard rumors of planets like Betazed and Trill are forming a new "Federation". I've heard that Riker is supposedly joining this Federation himself… if this is true… we'll join them as well. I don't know what else to do… we can't- no, we won't- rejoin the Federation.

"And I don't think we can stay independent. Bajor, I know, would help, but not enough. They've improved over the years but hardly enough… we'll just have to wait this out…"

/-/-/-/

/- _**Around the Same Time**_

Will ran his hand softly through his daughter's dark curls. The man's eyes watched his hand as it moved. And, as he thought, he noticed her hair was no longer the black she had been born with, but more of a dark brown. At least, he thought, her eyes had never changed from their baby blue color.

He loved her eyes. They were beautiful. A bright blue with white surrounding her pupils. He was glad they hadn't ever changed. Deanna, however, had hoped they'd be brown like her own.

Bending, Will's lips softly brushed his daughter's forehead, the girl not even stirring in her sleep. He smiled contently as he picked her up, standing at the same time and walked slowly to her room.

He probably should have brought her there some time ago when she had fallen asleep, but it was the few precious moments like that Will craved.

Gently he laid the girl down, brushing a few strands of hair from her face before pulling the blankets tightly around her. "Good night, sweetheart."

Pausing at the door, Will smiled, watching his daughter sleeping peacefully in her bed. "Lights off."

He blinked as the room suddenly went dark before turning away and walking back out into the living room. "Computer, news."

Without pause, an image of a middle-aged woman appeared on the computer screen. He listened to her for a moment, before turning the channel. Again he listened for a short time, cleaning up Liz's mess as he did.

He sighed, plopping down onto the couch. "Computer, turn channel."

With a click, a young man appeared. _"Scientists are still uncertain as to what caused the power outage on Monti Prime but-"_

"What are you doing, honey?"

Will sighed, looking over his shoulder to see Deanna walking in. Telling the computer to turn off, he ran a hand through his hair and turned away from the screen, kissing her as she sat beside him.

"Just watching the news. I can't believe that there's nothing about what's been going on."

"Of course not. Amen wants no one to hear this. He's trying to contain the panic."

Will sighed, wrapping his arm around her waist. "I think it's time to return to _Shadow Land_."

"When?"

"A few days. I have a couple of things to finish up here."

"Mommy back?"

Startled, both turned around and looked down at their daughter. A small chuckle came form his lips as he noticed her, her stuffed Grinook in hand. "What are you doing out of bed?"

"I not tired."

Will smirked, glancing at his wife before walking up to the child. "I don't think so. Come on, kid. Back to bed."

/-/-/-/

/- _**Around the Same Time**_

"Yes, the basic laws will remain the same as the Federation," Lwaxana said with a sigh, rubbing her eyes in irritation. These people were becoming horribly annoying.

"Which means equal say from everyone."

"Yes," she hissed. Hadn't the Telterinite already asked this? Why did this O'Kamp have to ask once again?

"And who will replace Earth's position on the main Council?"

Lwaxana's attention turned to the young Denobulan ambassador. T'Pel, Pok, and Pell all looked to him as well. Lwaxana sighed. "We haven't actually decided whether or not there will be the fifth planet."

"And if there is ever a tied vote?"

Pell sighed, "Then we will rely on a majority vote of the entire Council."

"You do realize that, unlike before, there is now an even number of planets on the Council of Representatives. There can be a tied vote there as well."

"Taking one of us," continued the Andorian, "will make both Councils uneven."

Lwaxana nodded. "Yes, that is true-"

"Then one of our planets should be chosen!"

"And who would you have us choose?" she said to the Gintar.

"The Andorians have been in the Federation longer than all the others!"

"And do you not recall that we are no longer the Federation?"

"Yes, we're a bunch of planets bickering over nothing," Phiff, the Denobulan, said sarcastically, earning a smirk from Pell.

Lwaxana sighed, rubbing her forehead as words were quickly tossed back and forth between the representatives. Eyes closed, she moaned as their raised voices bother her head, making the throbbing increase.

Suddenly the Betazed rose, marching easily from the room. Silence fell over the other races before Pell rose as well and followed the woman.

"What did we do, Pell? All we had to do was stay quiet with what we knew," Lwaxana said softly, her voice a whisper brought to the Trill's ears by the soft wind. "The lives of millions have been changed because of us."

"Lwaxana, you're being over dramatic."

"No, I do not believe I am," she said as she turned around. "Just look here on Betazed. It may be a beautiful planet and we may have always had an abundance of land, but we can't keep up with the demands of all these people. Hundreds of Betazoids are trying to come here after living on Earth, colonies, and starships.

"Humans, too, are trying to find refuge here. But the fact is, not all of them can stay here, but what do we say to them? And even Vulcan is having a similar problem- suddenly hundreds of Vulcans are returning home. And I know Trill is in the same situation."

"Yes," Pell said, "I know that. And there's nowhere to for them to go. Especially not on Trill."

Lwaxana sighed. "There's nothing to be done with them for now."

"What about Keltrais?"

"What about it?"

"The planet is large and quite hospitable," Pell said as Lwaxana turned and looked at him.

"It is also in Zaraxian space," the Betazed commented, turning away.

"True… but what if I said the Zaraxian government owes Trill a fever."

"I'd say it had better be a rather large one."

"Large? Perhaps enough."

"Enough is almost never 'enough'."

/-/-/-/

/- _**Around the Same Time**_

"Excuse me, Mr. President."

Amen looked over at the young Ensign, smirking as he saw his discomfort. "What is it, lad?"

"Sir, I don't mean to interrupt, but there is a secure communication for you. A Commander Jaron."

"Ah, yes. Thank-you, Ensign. Dismissed." Amen sighed, looking up from his painting in front of him.

Wiping his hand on a dirty rag, he stood and walked over to his desk, lowering himself onto the chair.

"Ah! Commander Jaron. I had wondered when I'd be hearing from you."

"President Amen, we have done as you asked and are now returning to our home."

"Yes, yes. Good job but I am afraid that it may have all been for nothing."

"You cannot be serious!"

"I am afraid that I am. With the Federation split in half, we can hardly even pretend to be interested in an alliance with the Romulans-"

"Such an event is even more reason to seek some sort of alliance. We only did this with the understanding that this would help both of us."

Amen sighed, leaning back in his chair. "Very well. I may yet be able to salvage my plan. Thank-you, Commander."

"Pres-"

Amen's finger quickly hit the comms, deactivating his link to the Mikolian Commander. He sighed, his eyes drawn back up to his painting. "No, no, all wrong. It needs more blues."

/-/-/-/

/- _**A Few Days Later**_

"Come in," Jadzia called, walking from her room to see Julian step inside. "Julian?"

"Hi."

"Come in. What are you doing here?" The doctor shrugged, walking farther into the room. "Would you like something?"

"Tea, please," he called out to her, seeing that she was at the replicator.

Sinking down onto the couch, he took the tea from her hand. Taking a sip, he saw her looking at him. "I just wanted to see how you were doing."

"I'm… doing fine. What-"

"The Captain sent me. He said you've been working a lot lately."

"I have been. We don't have anyone to work there."

"And now you're exhausted."

"Thank-you, Julian, I noticed."

The doctor sighed, looking at her drinking her coffee slowly. "How many of those have you had today?"

Dax glared at him until Julian shrugged, looking away. "Two. Just two."

"It's nine in the morning. That's a little much."

"Julian!"

"Sorry. Are you sure you're okay?"

"I'm sure." She sighed, sipping her coffee. "Fifty Bajorans are coming tomorrow. I'll take a break. I promise. I promise," she reinforced, seeing his raised eyebrow. "I have to go. But thanks for checking on me."

"No problem."

/-/-/-/

/- _**Around the Same Time**_

"You going somewhere yourself?" Will commented as he saw Lwaxana's aid walk away.

"Sorry?"

"Going somewhere?" he repeated as he gestured to the aid.

"Yes… the Council is going to Zaraxian Prime. But, Will, there is something I have to tell-"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa… Zaraxian Prime? That's a dangerous area of space."

"Yes, it is. But-"

"Why are you going there?"

"What? Oh… a treaty we have to negotiate. But I have to tell you something."

"Yes?"

Lwaxana paused a moment, looking down at the ground near his feet. It wasn't often she was last for words, but neither was it often that she had such a question to ask.

When she looked back up at him, she said, "Even with this new Alliance, we have very few ships left. All ships in Starfleet are either under the control of Amen, or defected with you. Betazoids, Vulcans, and most other species that left the Federation, have also left Starfleet. Many have offered scientific vessels to join a… 'Starfleet'…. At least some form of protection."

"But you need ships?"

"We need ships and people. And honestly, this quadrant needs some kind of unification."

Riker sighed, rubbing his neck. "You want me to join this Alliance."

"I'd like you to consider it."

"I'll think about it then." The Ambassador nodded as Riker turned and walked away.

/-/-/-/

/- _**A Week Later**_

They were creepy.

Lwaxana had to admit that she had never seen a Zaraxian before. And looking at one now, she quickly realized she hadn't missed much at all. They were just plain scary.

She found herself not able to take her attention off of their eyes. With their irises pale grey, they blended right into the white of their eyes. But it was their pupils that really crept her out. They glowed red, shinning eerily in the shadows.

"You want Keltrais for what?"

The deep voice of Ixip broke her trance, forcing the Betazoid to look away from the guard's eyes. Her head turned away from the guard and back to the Prime Minister. The room was lighter on his side of the room, keeping his eyes from glowing but allowed her to see how pale his skin was and how well it blended with his long, white hair.

"We'd like to build a temporary settlement there." Lwaxana glanced at Pell as she spoke, looking back to see Ixip's reaction. Surprised was a far understatement.

"A settlement? In Zaraxian space?"

"It will only be there for a few years at most," T'Pel reassured him.

"I understand your situation, Ambassador. But I honestly can't understand what you could possibly need Keltrais for."

Lwaxana sighed. "There are many refugees in need of somewhere to go. Keltrais is large and uninhabited by any of your people. The climate there is ever quite perfect for the majority of our species."

"It's not like you use the planet. It's too hot for you."

Ixip nodded at he Bolian, his eyes glowing for a brief second as his long hair cast its shadow over it.

"And what would you think in my position? Do you think it would be wise for me to give shelter to thousands of aliens? To bring them well into my boarders when I am not yet certain whether or not they will be hunted by those of the remaining Federation?"

Pell looked down before looking back up to the Zaraxian to say, "We understand what you must think-"

"Really?"

"But there is no threat from the Federation-"

"No?" came from his lips, interrupting the Trill. "You do not know that. You do not know what President Amen will yet do."

"Well -"

"No, Ambassador- Ambassadors. I am afraid that I cannot agree to this arrangement. The Zaraxian government still has treaties- of both non-violence and trade, which we will continue to hold true. This agreement could easily threaten those treaties."

"Prime Minister-"

"That is final! I do hope you will find some other place. Good day to you all. Please leave."

Lwaxana huffed, pushing herself from the chair. "Good day to you too."

"Prime Minister," T'Pel said all a curt nod as she followed the Betazoid form the room. Pok rose and followed her silently.

Pell glanced at them, her eyes then turning to Ixip and the two guards behind him. "Uh… good day, Prime Minister," came softly form her lips before she walked away.

/-/-/-/

/- _**A Few Days Later**_

Amen sighed, pacing his office from one end to the other. A groan escaped him as he turned again, strutting the length of the room.

His hand reached up to scratch the back of his neck. He groaned once again, shaking his head as he muttered something to himself.

"Don't tell me you're nervous about this."

Amen spun around to look at Ken as he stepped through the door. He grunted and turned away.

"Not nervous," he muttered. "Just trying to figure out what to say."

"Well think fast, your meeting with Elite Minister Calix is in twenty minutes."

"I am aware of that!" Ken jumped, shocked at the President's sudden outburst.

His pacing halted and he looked back to the young Ambassador. "This is a very delicate thing. We need this… Now," he turned away, looking outside, "If you've nothing to say, please leave."

"I, uh, just wanted to tell you that the Federation Council has been screaming for a meeting-"

"Which is hardly my responsibility. You're on the Council, you handle it."

"I've been postponing meetings with them for months on your orders. They want you there. And now."

"I haven't the time to deal with them."

"President-"

"Get out! I don't have time for this! Out!"

Ken swallowed hard. For a second he stood there, holding his ground and Amen's eyes. Amen's eyes hardened in anger and annoyance. Ken looked away, relenting to the man, turning and leaving.

/-/-/-/

/- _**Around the Same Time**_

"What are you droning on about now?"

"Oh. Uh, I think we've made a major break through. It's really quite ama…zing-"

"I don't care," Ken said with a sigh, "Just tell me if it will work or not."

Dr. Tanith sighed, looking over at his lab assistant at his side. The young woman nodded and walked away. "Not at this moment. But- but it will."

"Good. It that all?"

"Well… no. I'm, uh, a little worried about the psychotropic effects of the chemical."

"That is the intent, is it not?"

"Well, I thought it was just supposed to be temporary. I thought that-"

"Look," Ken said sharply, "I don't really care what you think- or thought. But no, it's not supposed to be temporary. That's not what I was told. So just… shut your mouth and make this work. Alright?"

Tanith looked down, biting his lip as he collected his thoughts. "Alright. I'll shut my mouth and work."

"Good. I'll check back on you tomorrow."

"Wait… wait," he called out as Ken walked away. "Uh, um… why am I here? This isn't exactly my expertise."

"No, but we know you'll do it."

"Ahh. I see."

"Now-"

"I know, shut my mouth." Tanith's thumb ran over his lips, imitating a zipper before he pretended to throw something over his shoulder. Ken turned around, rolling his eyes as he walked away.

/-/-/-/

/- _**A Week Later**_

"There must be a way," she thought aloud, turning once again, pacing through the large sitting room she and her friend were in.

"Calm yourself, Pell. We'll find something else."

"There is nothing else, Lwaxana. There is Keltrais. A beautiful world with everything we need… and it's completely out of reach!"

"Pell-"

"What? I know there's something else. Something we'll find. But not before a state of emergency arises, and by then what is-"

"Pell! No, no… not that. Do you remember what the Prime Minister said about Federation treaties?"

"Yes, they are all going to be kept and honored."

"Exactly."

"Exactly what?"

"Norhians own the only mines capable of producing Adaquan…"

"Which the Zaraxians use a lot of for their cities," Pell continued, smiling with Lwaxana as she realized what was going on in the Betazoid's mind.

"Exactly."

"You're going to put that over their heads, aren't you?"

"No. I am simply going to offer a small trade."

"How small?" Pell asked hesitantly as she hurried after Lwaxana, the Betazoid already out of the door.

"A few years worth of Adaquan."

"Well that's small."

/-/-/-/

/- _**A Few Days Later**_

"I have already said that we cannot accept this offer."

"We understand that, Prime Minister, but we have something else to propose."

The Prime Minister nodded silently, leaning back in his chair. Twinning his fingers together, "Continue, then."

Lwaxana nodded, she and the others sitting down at the end of the triangular table, Ixip at the top point. "Your cities are run on the power you produce from Adaquan."

"Yes, that is true."

"Then you must know the Noreh government has left the Federation," T'Pel told him, an eyebrow arched at his smirk.

The Prime Minister leaned forward, his eyes locking with Lwaxana's. "Brilliant strategy, Ambassador. Without Adaquan our cities will no longer function."

"We are not here to take away your power source."

"Then what are you here for?"

Pok nearly rolled his eyes, the man bluntly saying, "We want Keltrais."

Pell glared at the Bolian. "We _want_ to make a trade. Four years worth of Adaquan for four years use of Keltrais."

Ixip sighed, "It is a generous offer, but what will we do after then?"

"In four years, I can answer that question."

The Prime Minister leaned back in his chair once again, setting his index finger against his lips as his eyebrows knitted together. "I do not know if that is acceptable."

"You must realize," T'Pel began, "That without this deal, your supply of Adaquan will run out within a week and you will have to make a new trade agreement with the Noreh government."

"And I might remind you that all agreements made by any nation within our new federation are closely observed by the Council."

"Is that a threat, Ambassador Troi?"

"No, Prime Minister. It is a statement of fact."

/-/-/-/

/- _**Two Weeks Later**_

"Alright, so what's this new program again?" Miles O'Brien asked his friend. But Julian still wore a smug smile, refusing to tell him anything.

"All I'm saying is that my friend Felix made this program for me. You'll like it, trust me."

"Trust you?" He replied sarcastically, following the doctor up the stairs to the holosuite. Only the chirping of Miles' comm. badge stopped them. "O'Brien here."

"_Chief, there's a problem the with the _Defiant_'s main engines. Could you come take a look at them?" _

With an apologetic look to Julian, the Chief moaned. His voice was annoyed as he said, "I'll be right there. Chief out. I'm sorry, Julian."

"It's ok. Maybe next time."

"Yeah. I'll see you tomorrow, then."

"Of course." Julian's forced smile faded as he saw that the engineer was out of sight, a disappointed frown appearing instead. Walking almost dejectedly toward the bar, he ordered his tarkalean tea. And, leaning against the bar, his eyes scanned over to others there.

The person to his right looked up at his voice. "Julian? I thought you were going to be in the holosuite tonight."

He looked over to see Jadzia Dax, a slight smirk on her face. She seemed amused at the slouched stance of the British man.

"Well, I got dumped by the Chief… so…" he paused to thank the Ferengi waiter, "Would you care to join me?"

Jadzia smiled at him. She thought for a moment, curious as to whether or not he was trying to hit on her, even though he hadn't truly tried for years. Or if he merely wanted company during his holosuite time.

Finally, she smiled, standing and looking at him. "Only if I don't have to play one of your war games."

"I promise," he swore, sending her a broad smile as he got off his stool. "It's a new program I just got, I think you'll like it."

"Alright. I'll come."

"Great. We're in number two then."

"Okay," she smiled, Julian allowing her up the stairs before him. A grin covered his lips as he opened the door, the couple stepping in.

Jadzia coughed slightly, overwhelmed by the thick smoke in the dim lighted room. The majestic echo of a man singing caught her ear, Dax looking up at the stage. A man, looking to be a human from the mid-20th century stood performing to the room full of patrons, many of them indulging in dinner or a drink with their friends and escorts.

"Where is this?" The Trill asked, having to shout at Julian in the loud room.

"It a city called Las Vegas on Earth in the 1960s. See up there on stage, is Vic Fontaine- a singer of the time. He's the one I wanted you to meet," Julian said, pointing out the distinguished performer.

"A hologram?" She asked over the sound of him singing.

"He's not _just_ any hologram. Trust me, you'll love him."

She looked over to the stage as the music cut, the hologram jumping off the stage. "Why do I get the feeling he's not the one you want me to fall in love with?"

/-/-/-/

/- _**Around the Same Time**_

"Genny, hey!"

"Pell!" The Trill smiled widely, wrapping her arms around the man's neck. Genny just laughed, hugging his old friend tightly. "I didn't think I'd see you again!"

Stepping back, Pell smiled as she looked into Genny's face. "That's an understatement, if I've ever heard one."

"Well I am glad to be seeing you… but must you use that silly, childhood nickname?"

Pell giggled, bowing her head. "Sorry, but you will forever be little Genny to me."

Shaking his head, Genn sighed. "Then perhaps I should remind you of… Poolly."

The Trill buried her face in his chest as she tried to contain her laughter. "I haven't heard that name in forever! Come on," she said, taking his hand and leading him away, "we should get out of this corridor… So what have you been up to?"

Genn sighed, "I've been working on Keltrais for the past two months."

"Oh really?"

"Yes. I'm here to give my report on the progress of the settlement. But I assume you already know all about that."

"Well, I know about it, but nothing too recent. I wouldn't mind hearing how it's coming," she said, leading him into her office.

"We're almost ready for the first group of people. The only problem is that we're short room for a couple hundred thousand."

"That's a lot."

"Yes, but let's not talk about that. How have you been? How's Ayla?"

"We're married."

"Really? Since when?"

"Two years," she said with a sigh, looking up to see the small hint of pain in his eyes.

"Wow… How's that going?"

"Well. And you?"

"Still single, I'm afraid."

"You are far too young to be concerned with such a thing."

"Pell, we're both twenty-nine years old," he said with a soft chuckle. Pell shook her head, smirking as her hand gently ran along his cheek, tracing the path of his spots.

"And that's young to a three-hundred year old being."

"Well now… I'm just an adult. You're just plain old."

"Hey!"

/-/-/-/

/- _**Around the Same Time**_

"Well, um, I'm glad you enjoyed your night," Julian said, smiling nervously as he led her to her quarters.

"Yes, it was a lot of fun." He nodded, his hands finding themselves in his pockets as she opened her door. "I'd like to go again."

He nodded again. "I'm sure Vic will like that."

"Yeah." Jadzia sighed, leaning against the door. She watched him a moment, debating with herself. "Would you, um… would you like to come in?"

He cleared his throat, glancing quickly into her quarters. "I shouldn't."

"No, right… uh, yeah. Then I'll see you later."

"Later, yeah." The two nodded, almost simultaneously. Dax sighed, turning to walk into her room. "Hey, um… how about Saturday? At Vic's?"

"Sure." Smiling, "Ok. Saturday."

"I'll hold you to it." Julian teased, sobering some when he looked at her. He froze in his spot, unsure if he should leave then… or not.

"Goodnight," Jadzia said for him, stepping in to kiss him on the cheek.

"Goodnight," he whispered into her ear, his cheek brushing hers as she moved away.

Jadzia smiled as she walked into her room, her eyes never leaving him. He watched as she paused, only far enough away to let the door close. He exhaled, shaking his head. He couldn't believe they were… what?

Did she just agree to go on a date with him? Or had they just been on one?

Julian rubbed his neck and turned away from Jadzia's room…

/-/-/-/

/- _**A Week Later**_

"William." Will turned around, pausing to allow Lwaxana to catch up to him.

"How was your meeting?" He asked once she was near.

"Hmm? Fine… fine." The Betazoid sighed. "How does Liz feel about bending a year older?"

The man smirked, laughing as they turned the corner. "Oh you saw exactly how she feels about it yesterday… it's how her parents feel about it that I don't know about."

Lwaxana nodded with a quiet laugh. "True. She had a way of making one feel old."

"Yes, yes she does. It feels like only yesterday that we were prisoners of the Hagan, stuck in a cave… somewhere on the planet."

She nodded, the faint memory of the even creeping its way forward. "My goodness… that was five years ago."

"Don't remind me." She smiled, putting her hand on his shoulder.

A moment of awkward silence fell over them. Lwaxana sighed, turning to look at her son-in-law. "Will, I told you about the overflow of people?"

"Yes, what about them?" the Captain said with a sigh.

"We've found a temporary place to keep a large majority of them, but-"

"But not enough?"

"Not quite. Will, many of these people are- were- Starfleet and coming from outposts. I think they would make a good addition to your fleet."

"Lwaxana-"

"Hear me out, Will. Some of the ships and spacestations that left the Federation have lost many of their members. They need replacing. And these people would be able to do that."

Riker sighed, shaking his head. "Alright. Get me a list of who they are and what they do and I'll find a place to put them."

/-/-/-/

/- _**A Week Later**_

"President Amen."

"Hello again, Elite Minister Calix." The Romulan's brow raised, annoyance showing in his eyes. "Well, I was wondering if you had considered my proposal any farther."

"Your proposal," Calix said, leaning back in his chair. His face was blank as he continued, "was already considered and rejected the first time you talked to me about it."

"Well then," the human sighed, "I would like to propose something… different. An alliance was perhaps too strong of a word in our case."

"Go on," the Romulans said, watching the miniature face of the Human President on his screen. "I'm listening."

Amen rubbed his face, itching the side of his nose. "I want to propose something more permanent-"

"More permanent than an alliance?" The Romulan smirked, the other man groaning.

"More _long-term_. A non-aggression agreement between our two people."

Calix's brow raised as his fingers wove together. "Are you planning to see a war soon, President?"

Amen smirked, a laugh nearly escaping his mouth. The Human leaned forward, weaving his fingers together as he set his elbows on top of the desk.

"Not exactly."

/-/-/-/

/- _**Around the Same Time**_

"Now what are you doing?" Deanna asked, leaning over to wrap her arms around Will's neck.

"Something for you mother."

"My mother?"

"Yeah," he sighed. "She wants me to go over these former Starfleet officers and give them a position."

"Well that good then, right? We need more people."

"Yeah, it's great. It just means a lot more paperwork for me is all."

Deanna smiled, rubbing his back. "It's worth it, hon."

Will nodded, glancing up as she moved away. "Doesn't feel like it."

Deanna gave a small laugh from the other room. "It will later."

"Promise?"

"I promise," she said as she walked back in, leaning against the wall with her drink in hand. Will glanced up, catching her dark eyes before turning back to his work.

"Can I ask you something, Will?"

"What about?"

He looked up when she hesitated, finding her starring down into the steam floating up from her mug. "How long are we going to continue to call ourselves Starfleet? When will-"

"Deanna… I don't know. I honestly… don't know. Soon… maybe."

"Okay," she said, giving a small nod. "Okay… do you want something to drink?"

"Sure."

/-/-/-/

/- _**A Few Days Later**_

"Well, I think it's an important matter to discuss."

"Something must be decided at some point," Phiff agreed with Jenno, a Dekarian.

"Yes, that is true," Pell started.

"But is this the right time to speak about suck a thing?" Lwaxana asked them all. "There are other things that must be done first."

"And you think that something like this can just be ignored and put aside?" Vala Kin, the O'Kamp ambassador, questioned. Her yellow eyes glanced around at the others in the room, as if to find some support.

"That is true. Besides this matter can honestly be done within minutes."

"Ha! With you and Gandel in the same room, Sikod, nothing is accomplished within two hours."

"That is-"

"It is true, Gandel," Lwaxana said to the Andorian, her eyes turning from him to the Gintar, Sikod. "And you know it. Now I think the decision of a name should wait a little longer-"

"We need some sort of name."

"We do-"

"What about the Betazed Alliance," someone proposed.

"Why _Betazed_ Alliance? Why not just the Alliance?" Gandel asked; Sikod just glared at him.

"Because all meetings are held here, the basics were drafted here. Not to mention that the idea was started by a Betazoid."

"No, it was started by many things. But, just as the Federation was to Earth," Phiff said to Sikod, "we did not call it the _Earth_ Federation."

"As I said," Lwaxana's voice echoed over the others, "A name can wait."

Taking a deep breath, she glanced to the three around her before standing and looking around at the others. "It has been debated among the Council for several months now, but we believe we have decided upon the correct species to be the fifth part of the Council," Lwaxana began.

Her eyes took in all the different faces, recalling that each single voice represented hundreds of thousands of others. At that same time, she saw that many were not suited at all for the position they were offering. And some, she saw, did not deserve it.

But there were a few that had been debated over. "The vote was unanimous. The Vigolians will take Earth's place."

Her head scream with the sudden disappointment and outrage of the others, but they were quickly pushed aside just as her eyes turned to the young Vigolian, Lyson Moricz. A soft smile had settled over his lips, a distant smugness in his eyes.

"It is a great honor," he said as he stood, "for my people to accept this position. Thank-you."

"You people have long been a part of the Federation. You deserve it," Pell said with a smile, standing besides Lwaxana.

The Betazoid sighed, nodding at the Trill. "Very true. That will be all for today. Mr. Moricz," she called out to the Vigolian just as all of the ambassadors stood from the table. "I am sure that you will tell your government of this yourself."

"Of course."

She nodded, an eyebrow raising as the young man walked away. "I'm still not sure if that was the right choice."

"The Vigolians will do well, I think. They have always been one of the leaders of the Council of Representatives," T'Pel said slowly, standing as she spoke. "This one may be young, but he seems promising."

"We've been through this," Pok said, "They'll make themselves work. Now may I leave or are you going to bicker about this more?"

"Pok is correct. We have all agreed to this. It has been announced. There is nothing else to discuss."

Lwaxana sighed and shook her head. "I know this, I just think… Humans can hardly be replaced."

"Of course they can. You just did it."

Pell glared at the Bolian, her eyes shinning with annoyance. "What about Riker? Have you not extended an invitation for him and his fleet to join the Council?"

"Oh, I have. Will has just chosen to ignore it for now. He may yet agree."

"And if Captain Riker does, where do you think he wants his voice? He cannot wish to be on anything more than the Council of Representatives. I highly doubt that he wants any more responsibility added to his own."

Lwaxana nodded at the Vulcan's assessment. "Very true. I will speak with him again soon. By then perhaps he will have made some kind of decision. I will see you tomorrow."

/-/-/-/

/- _**Around the Same Time**_

"You two, out!" The two Humans looked up in fright at the enraged Ambassador Smith before them, glancing quickly at Dr. Tanith before scurrying from the room. "What the hell did you think you were doing?"

"Sorry?"

"Don't sorry me!" Ken huffed, his face barely an inch away from Tanith's. "You went to the president what _I _said that _I _would talk to him about it. _I _would, not _you_!"

"Is this about me asking him to postpone the testing date?" Tanith said with a shake of his head.

"Well, I'm glad you finally caught up with the conversation. And no, this is about you disregarding my authority and humiliating me in front of the President!"

"Well I'm sorry that I hurt your ego."

Ken exhaled sharply. "I don't appreciate you going above my head. I said that I'd do it, I was going to."

"There are many things that you don't _appreciate_. And even if you had-"

"What the hell is that supposed to mean? I don't _appreciate_ things?" He asked, turning towards the doctor.

"Nothing. Look, I've actually have work to do."

"No," Ken shouted, grabbing the man by the arm as he tried to walk away.

Tanith yanked his arm out of the man's hold. "I meant that you're not a doctor nor a scientist and you don't know what's going to happen when that thing's released."

"I know that it will knock them unconscious-"

"Yes, and then they'll wake up. And because it _has_ to be delivered through the air and ventilation and _has_ to disappear from sensors within minutes it _will_ also render everyone who breathes it psychotic. They will all become violent or catatonic!"

Ken shook his head. "Well that's just too bad."

"I am not going to make hundreds of thousands of people insane!"

"That's not my problem. So shut up and deal with it… or I'll find someone who can."

"Than start looking."

Ken paused at that, a slow smirk coming to his lips. "Not a problem."

/-/-/-/

/- _**A Week Later**_

"Ambassador Troi?"

"Oh, please, Will. Call me Lwaxana."

"Sorry. Lwaxana, is there something I can do for you?"

"Yes," the Betazoid said with a sigh, leaning forward in her chair. "I just received word that the Romulans have signed a non-aggression treaty with the Federation."

Riker looked away for a moment, scratching the back of his neck. "Amen is planning something."

"He can't be planning war with us?"

"I don't know. Something like that would be a little late… and sudden," Riker commented, rubbing his chin as he settled back into his chair.

"True, but I can't help but wonder…" she paused, Riker looking back at Lwaxana.

"What is it?"

"Several reports say that more and more ships are patrolling the Federation/ Alliance boarder."

Riker nodded. "I've received the same reports."

"Will, if Amen is preparing to strike, we need you and your ships more than ever."

The Human looked away, sighing as he thought over her words. "Yes, I know-"

"Why won't you join us? A good fraction of your crew is Alliance citizens."

"I don't know, Lwaxana. Maybe because I feel like the only person who isn't happy about the Federation splitting up!"

"Trust me, you're not. But you can't just pretend that it didn't happen."

"I'll think on it…"

"Alright."

"So you're calling it the Alliance?"

"For the moment, it seems."

"Right. Riker out."

/-/-

So I know we're starting to get into the inner workings of the government and I know it confused me when I was writing this, so I thought I'd share what I came up with with all of you (don't worry, no spoilers). Basically, the Federation was run by a President (like in Kirk's time), but has since been abolished. Instead, it is controlled by the Federation Council of Representatives. This has ambassadors working directly with their world's leader to represent their world. Five planets are voted into the Federation Council, which run the Council of Representatives. For the Federation, this has mostly been Earth, Betazed, Trill, Vulcan, and Bolius. Hope that all makes since.

Hope you enjoyed! And please review, I'd like to hear what you guys think about it so far.


	7. Year 3: 2374, continued

_Author's Note:_ Oy! I almost forgot to post this one. Sorry guys...

Well, hope you enjoy!

/-/-/-/

/- _**Unknown Time**_

In the cold, silent room, the man laid on his side, his eyes and mind closed to the world as he lived in his own for a short time. But the peaceful serenity was quickly broken when sunlight streamed into the room, settling itself in Picard's eyes.

He winced at the warm, precious substance he saw so little of and brought a hand to his face. A small moan escaped his lips as soon as his groggy mind allowed him to realize where he was.

Slowly, he brought himself to sit up, leaning against the back wall. He could hear the echoing of footsteps on the stone floor, the sound ringing loudly in his ears. He knew this was how all the guards entered: they would shine light and created odd sounds to wake him.

Listening to the echoes, he realized the guard was approaching him, the guards' pace agonizingly slow. He sighed, looking to his pained shoulder. In the light he could see three red marks on his half-bare skin. Rubbing it gently, he knew black bruises would thrive there for weeks.

Five distinct clicks of the magnetic lock told him they were about to enter. A sudden pain spread over his leg, knowing that the guard had kicked him. "Rise and shine, Sleeping Beauty."

A second later, he felt two sets of hands wrap around his upper arms and then was pulled roughly to his feet. Without a moment to get his bearings, he was drag to the door and out into the halls.

He struggled half-heartedly against their hold as he was dragged through the hall. He watched as the ceiling passed by, noticing nothing different or interesting about each tile. His eyes turned to the side, suddenly noticing the amount of doors that lined the corridor.

He wondered how many were occupied. How many others were like him, stuck there without much at all.

They stopped suddenly, one of them letting go. Picard felt the other guard force him to the ground, holding him uncomfortably. He knew this was how they held him until the door opened, but he couldn't be near his cell.

He heard the door unlock and open and the guard pulled him back onto his feet. He struggled once again, the guards not caring as they shoved him into the room. He stood, turning back to see the smirk on the guard's face as the door locked him in the cell.

/-/-/-/

/- _**July, Two Weeks Later**_

"Captain's Log: Stardate: 37407.20:

After several days of thinking over Ambassador Troi's invitation into the Alliance, I brought up the proposition to the other Captains. A majority vote among the crews has decided that the fleet will join the Alliance.

"The _Enterprise_, the _Roddenberry_, the _DeForest_, and the _Apollo_ are on our way to Betazed to officially join as both citizens and the, quote unquote, Starfleet of the Alliance.

"I still don't know how I feel about this, joining the Alliance I mean. But it will do better in the long run. Besides, we could hardly have continued as renegades- we're running low on power and supplies once again.

"But this was a good choice… I guess. Now the real wonder is what President Amen is thinking."

/-/-/-/

/- _**Around the Same Time**_

"While I'm on Deep Space Nine, I'll need you to contact the Prime Minister of Keltra. He'll need to be informed of the changes."

"And what should I say if O'Mina tried to contact you?"

"Who?" Lwaxana glanced at the young Trill as they hurried down the hall.

"The Fran'rek Prime Minister. We've promised to give aid to her continent last year before the break up."

"Oh, right… I had completely forgotten about her. Ah well… make something up. You're good at that, right… Todd?"

"It's Tayd."

"Right." Lwaxana turned quickly down the hall, glancing at the screens of the three PADDs she held in her hands. "This," she shoved one into his hand, "is the schedule for the Kadnil Meeting. Make sure that the Council of Representatives know that they must consult with us before anything."

"Rig-"

"This is for Prime Minister Alkesh and this is for Ambassador Krin. Don't mix them up."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Good, now be off."

Tayd nodded shortly, watching Lwaxana hurry down the hall away from him before looking down at the PADDs in hand. He sighed, moving to turn away.

"Talyn! Talyn!" The Ambassador shouted as she walked back to him.

"It's Tayd," he muttered.

"Yes, Tayd, you are new right?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Don't talk to the Ambassadors or any leaders of any planet longer than you must. Say what I told you to say."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Good." She turned, taking only a step away before turning back. "And don't speculate. Never speculate about anything. Especially with Dekarians, they will always assume it is fact."

"Of course, ma'am."

She nodded, turned, and then turned back. "And try not to ever say facts. Those are often misinterpreted."

"Yes, ma'am."

Again she nodded. She went to turn, only to stop and tell Tayd, "And one last thing… never call me ma'am again."

"Yes… Ambassador."

"Better. Good day, Tayden."

The Trill resisted rolling his eyes, waiting there a moment as he watched her hurry back on her way. He sighed, rubbing the spots along his neck. The sad part was, he was pretty sure she was serious about all that.

/-/-/-/

/- _**A Few Days Later**_

"Captain Riker."

Riker looked up from the floor, smirking as she stepped inside. "Ambassador… Lynn, right?"

"Yes," the Trill said. Riker nodded awkwardly, leaning back against the turbolift wall. "Deck Eighteen." With a small jolt, the lift began moving once again.

"How's the trip so far?"

Pell looked over at the Captain. "It's been wonderful… and your Ten Forward is magnificent."

He chuckled softly. "I'm glad you approve." She nodded, both of them quieted.

"I was glad to hear that you decided to join the Alliance," she said after a short pause.

"Oh, yeah. It seemed… it seemed like the proper thing to do," he said, looking at the door rather than the Ambassador.

"The proper thing but not what you wanted to do."

Riker looked over at her, an eyebrow raised. "Funny, I could have sworn that you were the Trill ambassador…"

"Funny," she joked with a smile. The lift slowed and the doors opened. Stepping up to the exit, she turned and looked at Riker. "Captain?"

"Yes?"

"I was just thinking- we'll be a few days before we reach DS9… maybe you could show me around. I'd love to see more of your ship."

Riker coughed uncomfortably. "Uh, Ambassador, I'm married-"

"And I'm a homosexual. I'd just like a tour but-"

"I didn't mean to offend… tomorrow maybe."

"Tomorrow then." She smiled at him, amusement playing in her eyes.

Riker nodded, swallowing hard only once she had walked away from the doors, letting them close.

/-/-/-/

/- _**The Following Day**_

"You want to eliminate him? What for?"

"It was his faulty work that got us into this trouble in the first place. Federation officials want to question him. One question and he'll probably crack and tell them everything."

"You hired him, you should have checked in after him."

Ken sighed in frustration, his tongue in his cheek as he looked away. "I did-"

"Not very well. He's your mess now," Amen scolded, looking away from the young Ambassador. "I have more important things to worry about. Besides, he's been doing good work on his newest project."

"Which he'll probably squeal about. Just let me-"

"Kill him? No. No, I can fix all this. But don't," his voice became deeper, more threatening, "make it a habit to expect me to clean your messes. Next time you screw up…"

"Right," Ken sighed.

"Get used to it, Ken, you're going to be working with him a lot over the next couple of years."

"Years?"

"Yes, you didn't think this project would take a few days? Hardly. It will be a while before it's anywhere."

"But-"

"It's alright. You'll learn to like him."

"But-"

"Oh, and Ken, could you give this to Admiral Gange when you see him? Thanks."

Ken's mouth dropped, moving without sound coming out of it as Amen walked away, leaving him there.

/-/-/-/

/- _**Around the Same Time**_

"Elizabeth! Get back here!" Liz heard her father as she ran around the corner. A soft giggle emanated from her throat as she speed away from him, the game amusing her.

"Uphf!"

Liz slowly arched her neck, finding a woman smiling down at here. She crouched down, bringing herself to eye level with the girl. "What do we have here?"

Liz just looked at her, eyes big and captivated. Her hand reached out to touch the woman's face, small fingers running over the brown spots lining the side of her face.

The Trill smiled brightly at the girl. "Where are you parents, I wonder?"

"Right here," Will sighed heavily, eyes on his daughter. The Trill looked up, surprised at hearing the Captain's voice.

"So you must be Ms. Elizabeth Riker? My name is Pell."

"Hi," she said shyly, her voice soft and whispered as she moved away, hiding behind her father's leg.

"Oh, now you're shy," she teased, straightening to better see Will.

The father was smiling down at his child, bending to pick her up. "Now what was that for? Running away from me? Huh?"

Liz giggled as her father tickled her stomach. Pell smiled with the man, watching the pair fondly.

"Thank-you for stopping her."

Pell shrugged off the compliment. "She's adorable."

"Yes. She takes after her mother."

Pell grinned as the girl laid her head on Will's shoulder, brown eyes not leaving the Trill.

"Are you going this way?"

"Yes." He nodded, falling in step with her. "Do you have any kids?"

A small laugh escaped her. "No, no. Lynn has… before."

"Right," Will replied slowly, mind processing her meaning. "How many?"

"Four. Three girls, one boy. My- uh, Anrai's son is still alive, actually. He'll be… forty next month."

"Whoa, I can't imagine what it's like to… to be joined. I mean… I have been joined before, but I don't remember anything about it."

"You've been joined?"

"Long story. But your son is a decade older than you. Isn't that weird?"

She shrugged. "It doesn't really matter. We're not technically related any more. I was his father, his father died, and now he isn't involved with Lynn anymore."

"I'm sorry? I don't follow…"

"My last host, Anrai, had Rei. Anrai died five years ago and I was given Lynn." Pell looked over at Will then, noticing the look of confusion in his face as he fast tried to comprehend the complexities of her culture. "But rules now prevent me from seeing him. It's for the best…"

"I guess it would have to be."

"Yes… could you image if there weren't laws like that? Everyone on Trill would some how be relate- either through blood or married, or joining."

They both laughed slightly, thinking of the absurd thought. "Well… this is my stop. Good-bye, Will. Good-bye, Elizabeth."

"'bye."

"Good day, Ambassador."

"Pell, please," she said just as the doors shut.

/-/-/-/

/- _**Around the Same Time**_

Will glanced up at Deanna, handing her the half empty plate. She nodded uninterestedly at what he had said, taking the plate and setting it on top of the others. Silently, she told the replicator the recycle them, turning away to finish cleaning up.

"How's Jabez doing? Better, I hope?"

"Yes, the sessions are going well." Will sighed, scratching the back of his neck. He looked over at the Betazoid, irritated by her lack of interest in conversation that night.

"What do you think about the Council members?" He asked, looking over to his wife. She just shrugged, not looking away from her work. "What is it? You've been quiet today."

"Nothing… I couldn't help noticing that you've been spending a lot of time with the Trill Ambassador."

Will looked over at her, suddenly grinning. "Deanna… are you jealous?"

"Jealous? Hardly."

"Well… there's nothing going on between the two of us. We're… we're friends."

"If you say so."

"Deanna, she's married-"

"And so are you."

"You didn't let me finished… she's married to a twenty-seven year old, _female_ Trill. She's hardly interested."

"Doesn't mean you aren't."

His mouth dropped hearing her words, a response not able to come to his lips. "I- I can't believe I just heard you say that. Deanna, I am interested in her only as a friend and as an ambassador. Nothing more."

She shook her head, turning away from him. "Deanna… this isn't fair."

"Whatever, Will."

"Deanna, don't walk away."

"I can walk anywhere I want."

"Deanna," he sighed, taking a few steps forward, his anger slowly changing to annoyance.

She spun around violently, halting Will's movements. Looking at him, she said calmly. "I am going to take a nice, long shower… unless you have a problem with me walking there."

Will looked away, closing his eyes. He could almost sense her turn away. He heard the door close, knowing she was gone.

He sighed. He hated fighting with her… but it was far worse when he didn't even know what they were fighting about.

Oh well, leave her be for the moment and talk to her later. Perhaps then he could try to pretend like he knew what was going through her mind.

/-/-/-/

/- _**Around the Same Time**_

Amen sighed, his face one of disgust. He shook his head, muttering something to himself.

"No, no, no…" Another shake moved his hair from his face. "All wrong. Absolutely horrific."

A groan sounded from his throat as he tossed his brush on the paint-covered rag. He shook his head again as he stepped back from his stool. Turning his head this way and that, his eyes looked for the proper angle. But he found none.

Amen sighed, sitting back down in his chair. "Something is wrong. Something… it needs… hmm… I don't know…"

Amen's gaze drifted back to the window, eyes blinking back the radiant beams of light. It was past noon and still he had not completed what he had hoped to.

Painting, he thought, would help quiet his mind but instead it only brought out more questions he didn't yet have answers to. Questions he hadn't yet been able to ponder.

But it was one question that had been bugging him for the past few days. One he needed a quick answer to. But what…?

"Red." The single word echoed quietly in the room as Amen turned back to the painting. "More red here, I think."

His hands worked easily and naturally, gliding the paint over the canvas. A few seconds later, he nodded in satisfaction.

"Not bad. Not done, but not bad."

A sigh escaped him as he rinsed the brush and put it down in its place. Rubbing his hands with the old rag, he stood and walked behind his desk, the fantasy of his painting leaving him as he activated his console.

The screen remained blank a few minutes as he waited for the Lieutenant to get a hold of the man he asked to speak with. Finally the screen activated, a familiar face appearing.

"Commander Jaron."

"President Amen," the Mikolian said, his face void of emotion. "Is there something I can do for you?"

"Yes… where are you now?"

/-/-/-/

/- _**Around the Same Time**_

Will sighed, tossing the PADD back onto his desk. Rubbing his eyes tiredly, Will leaned back in the chair, allowing his mind to wonder away from the recent reports.

Captain Jayton had reported that he had properly distributed the supplied among all the ships and were currently on their way to patrol Alliance space.

True, Will was pleased that they were adjusting well to the newest assignment they faced. And he was worried about what might be brewing in the Federation. But, at that moment, he just couldn't bring himself to really care.

Pushing himself from the chair, Will stood before the floor to ceiling window. Not much of anything could be seen from there. He sighed, thinking of the planet they were head for.

Bajor was gorgeous from space, he remembered. Even the planet itself was said to hold one of the greatest beauties in the quadrant. Will sighed. He couldn't imagine that the Cardassians would leave much of that wonder untouched.

The short, tuneless melody of the chime hit his ears. He turned slowly to look at the door. He could sense that it was Deanna behind it, standing there on the bridge waiting for entrance. Their connection was one of those rare wonders in the galaxy, just like Bajor. It might not be visible, and it might not be understood, but it was to be cherished nonetheless.

He took a deep breath. He still didn't understand what had set her off early. He honestly didn't care. He just wanted to understand; he wanted to fix whatever had upset her.

The chime sounded again and Will answered. The doors opened with his simple words, Deanna pausing only a second before entering. He watched her closely, noting immediately that she, unlike him, wore her civilian clothes. Lavender Betazed silk flowing gracefully to the ground.

Will's eyes wandered up, catching hers, a soft smile gracing his lips…

/-/-/-/

/- _**A Week Later**_

"The wormhole is opening."

Sisko nodded with a sigh. "Our Dominion ship?"

"Yes."

"Lifesigns?" he asked the Trill to his right.

She glanced down at her console before looking back up at the Captain. "One changeling, one Vorta, and seven Jem'Hadar."

Sisko nodded again, exhaling as he looked to his first officer "I don't like this," the Bajoran woman said, arms crossed over the chest of her dress uniform.

"I know."

Looking back toward the view screen, his eyes caught the wormhole close, the Dominion ship left against the dark background.

"Chief, how much longer until the _Enterprise_ reaches us?"

"About two hours, sir."

"They're requesting docking permission," Dax reported, looking up at her Captain.

"Tell them Pylon Three."

"Aye, Captain."

"Major. Is Odo-"

"Already there and with two officers," she interrupted, walking with him to the turbolift.

"Very good," the Ops crew could hear as they disappeared.

/-/-/-/

/- _**Around the Same Time**_

"Did you know that I've never actually seen a Jem'Hadar?" Pell commented as she walked from Riker's Ready Room. The two glanced up to see the other four Ambassadors waiting to leave, Data positioned easily in the Captain's chair.

"See you in a few, Data," he said quickly, the android nodding his head in acknowledgment. "Really?" Riker then said, looking back over to the Trill next to him. "Me neither, come to think of it. Nor a Vorta… changeling once."

"Constable Odo?"

"I believe that was his name."

She smiled, looking up at Lwaxana. "I don't believe that the Ambassador has seen any either. Isn't that right?"

"Pell, William, I doubt that anyone outside of this station and those that have gone through the wormhole has seen them. Now can we hurry along?"

"She must have a hot date," the Trill whispered in Riker's ear.

"I heard that." The two laughed and continued, hiding their smirks as they stepped onto the turbolift. "Airlock four."

"So, you must be the new edition to the… uh-"

"Alliance Council."

"Right," Riker said with a nod, extending his hand to the young Vigolian. "Captain Riker."

"Yes. Ambassador Lyson Moricz."

Riker nodded, looking away. All of the others were quiet, watching the door as they waited for it to open. He sighed, glancing back at Lyson Moricz. He had only even seen a Vigolian once before, and then it had been a brief encounter.

Light blue scales had grown along his jaw and a few covered his temples. His black hair was long and covered the tips of his ears and most of the back of his neck. The roots of his hair were naturally streaked blue to match his many scales. Moricz glanced over at him, Riker looking away at the sight of his mechanical looking eyes, ones much resembling Geordie's implants.

The lifted finally slowed, its doors opening to allow them out into the hall. Lwaxana led the way, Pell, Pok, and Moricz following. T'Pel stepped out after them, Riker at her side.

"Data?" Riker said as they approached the airlock.

"Captain."

"Weren't you just-"

"I came to ask your permission to meet with friends on Deep Space Nine."

The Captain sighed, looking back behind himself a second before looking back at the android. "Yeah, of course, but-"

"I placed Commander Worf in command of the Bridge."

"Right. Well, shall we?"

Lwaxana nodded, stepping aside to allow Riker to type in his access code, releasing the hatch. The seven stepped into the airlock, Riker glancing behind him as the door rolled into place.

It was a mere second later before the room was equalized with the station and the other door rolled open, Captain Sisko and Major Kira standing there to greet them.

"Captain Riker," Sisko said with a nod.

"Captain Sisko, it's nice to meet you under better circumstances."

The man nodded his agreement, gesturing then to the Bajoran next to him. "This is my first officer, Major Kira."

Lwaxana stepped forward, T'Pel and Pell behind her. "It's good to be here again."

Sisko smiled, a knowing looking behind his eyes. "Yes, Ambassador, it is. Please, Ambassadors," he then looked the all of them. "This way." Stepping away, the Captain walked slowly to the right leading the Ambassadors away.

Riker stepped down, his first officer a step behind him. Kira smiled as she waited for the two to come down. "How have you been, Captain?"

"Pretty good, all things considering," he said with a smirk, turning quickly to glance at the Ambassador.

"Captain?" Riker turned and immediately nodded at the silent question. Data walked away, Kira not bothered to offer her assistance for she already knew he would not need it.

"So, are we going to catch up with them or sneak away?"

The Major grinned, almost wickedly. "It's not like we're going to be of any help."

"True, but I don't think they care if we do anything. It's really all about how many people are there so that they seem more important when they're the one's talking."

She smirked. "You may be right… we should get going."

"Right," he sighed, walking with her down the hall.

/-/-/-/

/- _**A Few Days Later**_

"Beverly!"

"Over here!"

"Over where? Oh!"

Beverly smirked, amused at having startled her empathic friend as she left her office. "Sorry." Setting her hand on the back of Deanna's back, the doctor led her over to the exam room. "What can I do for you?"

Deanna looked up to see Beverly step away and organize a few PADDs, saying, "Well, I haven't been feeling too well."

"Oh…" Beverly turned around quickly, "I didn't realize this was a doctor visit. I'm sorry."

"That's alright."

"Sit down. Sit." Deanna did as told, sighing. "What- what seems to be the problem?"

Deanna looked at her friend. She sighed, hesitantly admitting, "Stomach aches."

"Any vomiting?"

"A little… three times this week."

Crusher looked up at her, a frown on her lips. Deanna looked down at her hands instead, sensing the obvious disapproval of her timing. "When?"

"Once this morning… and Twice yesterday."

The doctor nodded, running the scanner over Deanna's body, her eyes focused on the tricorder readings. "Hmm."

"Hmm? What's 'hmm' mean?"

Crusher looked up, her face one of surprise. "Well… you have elevated levels of hCG."

"Which means?"

"Which means," Crusher echoed, "that you are… pregnant."

Deanna paused completely, her mind going bank. And then, just as suddenly, it started up again, thousands of questions running through her mind.

"What-? H-?… Pregnant?"

"Yes!" Beverly's grin threatened to split her face as she watched in wonder of her friend's confused emotions. "You're going to have another, healthy child."

Deanna closed her eyes, forcing her mind to quiet. A smile grew on her lips as the reality sank in. "I'm going to be a mom again." She paused. "Is it a boy or girl?"

"A-"

"Wait! Never mind. Don't tell me. Not yet."

"Okay. Secret safe with me."

/-/-/-/

/- _**Around the Same Time**_

Sisko stepped aside, letting the Ambassadors walk in before him. The five passed by, paying no attention to him as they went. Quickly, though, their attention was captured by what was in the conference room.

The Captain looked away from them, seeing that Riker and Kira were taking up the rear. "Major Kira, you may go now. Thank-you."

She nodded to both the Captains, a short good-bye directed towards Will. Then the Bajoran walked on, heading back to Ops.

Riker sighed, looked into the room. "I guess my job here is done." Sisko nodded. Riker smirked as he looked back at the man. "Have fun." The African American Captain sighed, shaking his head as Riker turned away.

Sisko took a hesitant step inside, the doors finally able to close. His eyes scanned over the room, halting when they spotted the Jem'Hadar at the back of the room. He was unarmed, but, as the first, he insisted on protecting the Founder.

Which brought his eye forward. Finding the female shape-shifter sitting comfortably in a chair. Weyoun respectively standing behind her. It seemed that it was hardly allowed for him to sit beside one of his gods.

Walking farther into the room Sisko's gaze caught the two Bajoran guards standing by the far wall, Starfleet officers standing back at the door. He looked to see that the five Council members were already seated, the Betazoid already speaking to the Founder.

"Captain Sisko." He looked over at Weyoun, aware that the Vorta's outburst had centered all attention on him.

"Weyoun."

"Please join us, Captain," the Vorta said, his voice as sly and manipulative as he recalled.

"I'm afraid I can't. This is far more for their skills. Weyoun, Ambassadors…" his eyes settled on the Founder, unnerved by the intensity of her grey eyes. She looked just like Odo, thought somehow he imagined it was only to appease the segregated shape-shifter.

"I am afraid I do not know your name."

"I have none."

"Right." Sisko inhaled deeply, nodding at the Ambassadors. Turning quickly, he fled from the room.

"What is it that you want from us?"

Lwaxana turned her attention back to the Founder, surprised to hear the voice. It was old, gravely almost. But at the same time, it was young and strong.

Pell spoke first, finding words to say faster than the others. "Quiet frankly, we want the Dominion out of the Alpha Quadrant."

The Founder titled her head to the side, something resembling smile on her lips. "But the Dominion is not in the Alpha Quadrant."

Lwaxana sighed, nodding. "What Ambassador Lynn meant was that we want your assurances that the Dominion will have no farther participation in the Alpha and Beta Quadrants."

"The Federation does not control all those areas of space."

"The Federation," Lwaxana jumped in, "is no longer your concern."

"I see." The Ambassador shifted at the sound of the Founder's voice. "But you did not answer the question."

"We control your entrance into these quadrants," T'Pel replied in monotone.

"Yes, very true. But you must know that the Dominion has no intent on… conquering your quadrants. If that is your fear."

"No… no, that's not it," said Lyson Moricz.

"We'd just prefer to have no Dominion activities in the Alpha Quadrant. At least not for some time."

The Founder tilted her head again, Lwaxana's brow creasing as she tried to understand the gesture. "And what, may I ask, will the Dominion benefit from this agreement?"

Lwaxana leaned forward, looking the Founder in the eye. "We will not enter the Gamma Quadrant as long as you do not enter ours."

/-/-/-/

/- _**September, Three Weeks Later**_

"Captain's Log: Stardate: 37409.12.

"We've been here for over… four weeks. And so far nothing has been accomplished. At least they say it's going well… I just don't believe that.

"The Dominion have stalled the talks twice already… they just walked right out… Luckily Pok is one of the best speed-talkers in the quadrant, or so Ambassador Troi tells me. She says that he's saved many treaties before with his abilities. I knew they kept him around for-

"No, computer, delete last sentence."

"_Sentence deleted,"_ the computer reported.

Riker stood, rubbing the back of his neck. "But I fear that the Dominion has never been interested in any kind of peace-treaty with the… I almost said Federation… with us here in the alpha quadrant… I guess is what I mean.

"I'll admit that all this Alliance and Federation stuff still confused me. I hardly even know who's who and all."

He paused again. "Computer, delete last paragraph."

"_Paragraph, deleted."_

"Uh," he stuttered, collecting his thoughts, "Ambassador Troi tells me that it may still be a while before they're prepared to leave… if that means they're staying until they get results, it may be a while…

"Computer… end log."

/-/-/-/

/- _**A Week Later**_

A silence had fallen around the conference room. Pell took the time to sip at the water in front of her, swallowing as she organized the thoughts running through her head into sentences.

"We cannot accept this agreement," the Founder said after a few moments, looking up at the five council members before her.

"What about this are you so against!" Pell shouted suddenly. "If your claims that you have no interests in this region are true, why do you want to come here?"

The Founder paused, eyes falling on the Trill. "That is not true. We have interest in helping you, not conquering you."

Pok leaned forward, folding his hands in front of him. "But, what we are saying is that, we don't want your help. Don't need it."

The Vulcan's fell on the unnaturally smooth of the Founder. Her dark eyes looked at the grey ones that were left visible only because of the slicked back style she wore her hair. T'Pel was unaffected by the dullness of the Founder's eyes.

"If we have no desire for you to help us, you no longer have reason to be here."

T'Pel's logic made the Founder nod. She leaned forward before saying, "That is true, but would you so blindly turn help away?"

"This is hardly a blind decision."

"Are you sure, Ambassador Troi? Have you and your council truly thought through the possibilities the Dominion can offer you?" Lwaxana said nothing. She just leaned back in her chair.

"Can you really say that there is nothing the Dominion has that you would not like for yourself?"

"That may be the case," Lwaxana startled slowly, "But, perhaps, these things you want to help us with, we must first try to fix ourselves? Maybe in time, your assistance will be more… easily accepted. But not now."

/-/-/-/

/- _**About the Same Time**_

"Relax, buddy, she has eyes only for you."

Julian looked at the hologram, "Uh, thanks… I guess."

"Alright. I gotta get back up there, but just remember: stay calm and ask her to dance."

"Dance?" He squeaked out.

"Yeah. Ya know. Dance- hold a person and move with the music. I'm outta here."

"Wait, Vic!" He called as the hologram jumped onto stage.

"Miss me?"

Julian turned around quickly and smiled, seeing Jadzia before him. Relieving her one hand of the glass she held, he put on a sly smirk and answered, "Every second."

Jadzia took a slow sip of the liquid, wincing when she swallowed. "I didn't know holographic drinks could taste real."

"Yeah, that's Felix for you," Julian laughed, not daring to taste the stuff as he glance up at Vic.

"This is an oldie but a goodie. Now, gather up a partner." Vic winked at Julian, turning to lead the band before he started singing. The doctor listened for a moment but couldn't identify the song.

With a deep breath, he stepped closer to Jadzia, setting his drink down. "Would you care to dance?"

Dax smiled, finding herself being swept up in the program, enjoying how well Julian's costume and British accent mixed. Accepting his hand, she stood from her seat. "I would love to."

Julian led her to the dance floor, which was nothing more than room left between the tables and stage. Slipping his hand into hers, he set his other on her hip, Jadzia placing hers on his shoulder.

With a deep breath, Julian tried to remember all the dance lessons he had received when he was younger. But nothing came back. Instead he just moved with the music, willing it to make him dance.

Julian relaxed, finally noticing how warm her body was against his, melting wonderfully against him. Slowly, he moved his hand from her hip, slipping it onto the small of her back. She didn't seem to mind. In fact, she set her head against his chest.

They stayed like that for some time, just rocking slowly with the music, Vic's voice seeming far in the distance. It seemed like eternity before the song ended, by they stayed where they were. Who cared who saw them- they were all holograms anyway.

But as soon as that song ended, another one began and it no longer mattered.

Julian's eyes slide closed, allowing himself to enjoy the sweet scent of her hair and the feel of their bodies close to each other. But slowly, he felt her lift her head from his chest. He looked, catching her eyes.

There was a soft, content smile on her lips; that beautifully insane gleam in her eyes. The same look she got when she was about to do something wild or unexpected. And indeed it was for Julian.

For just a moment, he stiffed when he lips meet his, unsure of just what she had done. But quickly he relaxed, enjoying the tender kiss. It seemed to both that it was an eternity later that Jadzia pulled away, a smile playing in her eyes.

Julian smiled, feeling a soft blush burning in his cheeks. But, if she had noticed, she said nothing. Instead, Dax rested her head back under his chin, tightening her hold around him.

/-/-/-/

/- _**Three Weeks Later**_

"Deanna!"

"Hey." A hesitant smile fell on her lips and she walked farther into the Sickbay. "So, where do you want me?"

"Right over there." Beverly watched Deanna head over to the biobed, looking away to pick up her instruments. "No Will? I would have thought that he'd come with you."

There was no answer at first and she turned to see if her friend had heard her answer. Deanna was looking down at her hands, contemplating them as if they were the most interesting thing in the world.

"Deanna? Will does know… you're here, right?"

"No. I didn't tell."

"Why not? He could have come down-" Beverly stopped mid-sentence, her feet stopping as well. Deanna finally looked up, regarding her friend closely. "You haven't even told him about the baby yet, have you?"

A quiet whisper came from her lips. Beverly didn't hear the word, but knew what it was.

"It's been three weeks."

"I know! But… but he's so busy lately and whenever I try to say something, we're just interrupted or…. Or the words just don't come out."

"Well you have to tell him some time."

"I know. I know. But…"

Beverly freed her hands of the tricorder, gently seating herself besides Deanna. Brushing the woman's arm, Beverly caught her eye. "But what, hon?"

"I don't know." She took a deep, audible breath. "Tomorrow."

"Tonight."

"He's on duty tonight."

"Then go see him. No one will say anything off you pull him off the bridge- except maybe him."

Deanna laughed at Beverly's thoughtful expression, the empath knowing where her friend's thoughts were going. Her husband would certainly not enjoy behind pulled from work, not until he knew why.

"How about," Beverly started, catching Deanna's attention. "I finished this up and then you head off to tell Will? Sound good?"

"I guess."

Patting her friend's knee, Crusher stood and picked up the tricorder. "Good."

/-/-/-/

/- _**About the Same Time**_

"Deanna?"

"Hey," she whispered, giving him a small smile. "What are you working on?"

"Nothing important." She nodded, crossing her arms over her chest as she walked slowly toward his desk. She stopped in front of it, her stomach just barely touching the edge. "Just finishing some reports."

She nodded again. "So… can I talk to you then?"

"Yeah." He typed something quickly, looking up at her. "Shoot." Deanna, taking a deep breath, swallowed hard. "You okay?"

"Yeah, um…" She looked away, pausing to collect her thoughts. And then looked back at him. "I've been trying to find a way to say this for a while and, um-"

"_Captain, there is an emergency transmission."_

Riker glanced at Deanna, tapping his combadge, saying, "I'll be right out." Then, tapping it a second time, he looked back at his wife. "Can this wait?"

Closing her eyes, she dropped her head to her chest. "Yeah."

"Okay." He stood the, walking quickly around the table and to the door.

"I'm pregnant."

The hushed words reached Will's ears just as his foot stepped over his office's threshold. He froze, mind blanking as the words sunk in. He forgot for that moment that something urgent had called him away. He forgot that he was exposed to the bridge's eyes and that all were now watching him.

With a deep breath, he turned slowly, pivoting his body as his eyes found his wife. Her arms were crossed over her chest, protective of her stomach. She sat half on his desk, her foot on the ground to support her. Her head was down, chin on chest. But slowly, she looked up.

Brown eyes met blue. His were empty for a moment, fear and confusion the first emotions to sink in, but not completely. A small smirk started to tug at his lip, Deanna sensing joy somewhere in him.

But as soon as the moment began, it was destroyed. A crackling of white noise sounded loudly on the bridge, drawing Riker's attention away. The view screen flickered to life, static creeping over the edges and down the middle.

Nonetheless, a face was visible beneath; a woman in a Starfleet uniform. He noticed she was black; the mark on her neck showing her to be a Telkra was by pure chance.

With a glance back at Deanna, Riker finished his earlier path onto the bridge, turning to face the Telkra woman. She has already begun to talk, but most of their words were lost and distorted by the static of the bad connection.

"I… Commander Hayd… lliance outpost 375... under attack. The enemy ship is unknown…. sending visual feed…"

"We're having trouble understanding-"

"Don't come after... started evacuation… Captain-"

The screen became fuzzier, turning off suddenly. Riker spun around. "Get it back! Get her back!"

"I can't, sir. She's gone."

Will sighed, eyes falling back on the screen, DS9 there rather than the Telkra. "What about the image of the ships, Data?"

The android looked up. "They appear to be Mikolian."

Will's face hardened, his body tensing. Slowly his head turned, finding Deanna in the doorway of his ready room. He swallowed hard, one work on his lips:

"Amen."

/-/-/-

Picard's alive? And who thought he was dead? Come on...

I love Tayd! I just had to mention that because scene between him and Lwaxana were an absolute delight to write.

Okay, beyond that, I didn't have time to re-read this chapter (because it was either I didn't or you didn't get a chapter before I leave for school...) Either way, I hope to see some of your thoughts at the close of Year 3. Keep an eye out for Year 4, it'll be up soon!


	8. Year 4: 2375

_Author's Note: _Hey everyone and welcome to Year 4. Hope you enjoy!

**/-/-/-/-/**

**Year Four: 2375**

/-/-/-/

/- **_1st of January _**

"Captain's Log. Stardate, 37501.01...

"It's New Years Day today. A new year. 2375…

"…four months. Almost four months ago two Mikolian ships attacked an outpost on the Alliance-Federation border, near the Romulan Neutral Zone. There were… there were six thousand people… children on board. Only twenty escape pods made it out… barely fifteen can fit on one that size.

"We knew that A- President Amen has aligned himself with the Mikolians. And there's no doubt in my mind that he was the one who ordered the attack. Why… I don't know. But I know he did it…

"The Alliance Council has tried contacting him and the remaining Federation Council with little luck. They refuse everything. Amen won't even admit to the alliance and the Council seemed to know nothing of it… despite the facts we gave them. The Ambassadors' plan will get us nowhere… but neither will war."

Sighing, Will rose slowly from his chair, rubbing the back of his head. "I'm not really sure what happens now. But whatever it is… we'll just have to be ready for it."

"Will?"

Riker turned around, finding Deanna walking through the doorway. "Computer, end log. Hey."

"Sorry, did I interrupt-"

"No… no, it's okay. I was done. Something… you okay?"

Deanna just shook her head. "I'm fine. Just… being pregnant."

Will nodded, sighing. "Right. You weren't this bad last time."

"Every time is different," she said with a shrugged, leaning against Will. Wrapping his arm around his waist, she tucked her head under his chin. Deanna let out a soft groan as he sat down, pulling her onto his lap.

"You sure you're alright?"

"Yeah, it's getting better… I promise."

"Okay."

Deanna's hand ran over his chest, eyes looking down to follow it. "Will?"

"Hmm?"

"Why aren't you in your jacket?"

He looked down at her face. "Sorry?"

"Your jacket?"

"I don't know," he said with a soft shrug. "I just… I can't… that uniform is Starfleet… which is the Federation… which is Amen… I don't know, I just… I just can't."

Deanna nodded slowly, watching him as he starred down at their twined hands. "Okay…"

/-/-/-/

/- **_Two Weeks Later_**

"Well… what are we going to do about it?"

"About what?"

Ken sighed, looking down at the floor as he collected his frustration. As much as the President scared him, he also annoyed. Amen was insane, true, but he could also be very flaky, there but not quite.

"About your re-election. Quiet frankly, you might not be… we can't afford to be thrown from office. And even if you do make it… another five years and we're gone… for sure."

Amen nodded, letting out an "Ahh…" But he said nothing more as he turned back to his painting, stroking the brush slowly over the right corner.

"Well?" Ken said impatiently, "What are we going to do?"

Amen glanced over at him, not stopping his work. "That, my boy, has been in play for years. Have you not noticed?"

Slowly the man's head shook, the movement becoming faster and more agitated. "No! When did you say anything-"

"No… no…" Then Amen sighed and looked at Ken. "I have never _said_ anything about it, boy. But surely you've noticed?" When Ken's brow creased and his body remained still, Amen let a slow smirk come over his features.

"You know what Article VII, Section III states?"

"Section III…" Ken's eyes lit up, grinning at the absurdity. "How- oh… oh my god… that's-"

"That is how our plan shall work." Amen turned away and looked back to his painting. "Could you hand me that yellow?"

/-/-/-/

/- **_Around the Same Time_**

Deanna stepped through the door, instantly surrounded by a wonderful smell. "Mmm… whatever you're making smells good."

She followed the sounds of his working, the smell growing stronger as she approached. "What-? Will, have you ever heard of a replicator?"

"Of course I have," he chuckled, feeling her arms wrap around his waist, her head resting on his back as she wasn't tall enough to set it on his shoulder.

"Then why aren't you using it?" Her voice was muffled, Will able to feel her breath through his thin shirt.

"Because I am so sick of replicated food. Betazed is more than willing to give us supplies; I don't see why I can't cook once in a while."

His wife just laughed, Will being tickled by the vibrations of her body. "What are you making anyway?"

"Dinner," he said, saying the obvious.

"What's for dinner?" She asked, her voice vibrating against his neck.

"Lasagna. Ever have it?"

"No. But it smells good."

"Trust me, it is." They paused, Deanna just letting herself rest against his warm body, closing her eyes contently. "Liz is in her room. Would you like to go get her?"

"Mm, I'd rather stay here." He chuckled, his body shaking hers. "But I'll go get her…"

"You sure-?" He turned at the waist, capturing her lips with his. She moaned as he pulled away, smiling at him.

"That really looks good."

"If you think it looks good, just what until you taste it." She smiled brighter, shaking her head and turned out of the room.

/-/-/-/

/- **_Around the Same Time_**

Jadzia nearly tripped over her foot as she walked down the corridor. Julian put out a hand, laughing harder than he already had been.

"I can't… believe that Quark said that!" Julian stuttered out between breaths.

"I would have too if I thought I was being robbed!" Dax was over taken with giggles once again, having to force herself to stop in order to breathe. She turned to look at her door, and with a sigh, turned back to Julian.

"Well here we are."

"Yes," he nodded, glancing first at the door, then back at her.

She paused, suddenly blurting out her question. "Would you like a Raktajino? Or… tea?"

He let out a laugh and nodded. "I'd love some."

"Okay." She tilted her head, gesturing for him to come in behind her.

With a breath, Julian stepped over the threshold, letting that same breath out as he looked around. He realized then how little he had been permitted in there, and even those times were short visits or during parties.

It was the same, basically, as his own room. As were all the single quarters. But she, like most everyone, had added their own unique touch to their rooms. And Jadzia, it was easy to see, had unleashed Dax within her home.

A bat'leth hung over the one wall, just above one of the sofas. Trill ornaments and art were scattered about and Klingon things had been thrown into the mix randomly.

Moving in slowly, he heard Jadzia yell out to make himself at home, and then asked what he wanted.

"Ah… Tarkalean tea, please."

"You're so dull," she teased, working her way back to her replicator.

Julian glanced at her, wandering over to a large painting that caught his eye. He wasn't entirely sure what it was, but it interested him all the same. Squinting down at the corner, he recognized the fluent Trill script but couldn't make out the letters.

"That was Emony's." He turned quickly, startled out of his reverie. She smirked. "She painted on her off time."

"In between the Trill and inter-Federation Olympics?"

"Yes. She found it relaxing."

"And you?"

"My talent doesn't quite do her justice."

Julian smiled and nodded, sitting beside her. Dax tucked her feet under her, snuggling into the corner of the couch with her pillow and mug.

"I found it by accident a few years back. That was… always one of her favorites."

"Really?"

Jadzia looked at him. "Well, one of them. I just think it's interesting."

"Yes… what is it?"

She burst out in laughter once again at his sudden question, her body shaking with the action. Julian smirked, waiting to see what was so funny. Finally, once she had quieted, she shrugged. "You know… I don't actually remember."

He nodded, the conversation drawing to a close as the two fell silent. But after a few moments, Julian glanced over at her, a smirk growing on his lips.

"But did you see Quark's face?"

Jadzia laughed hard, setting her mug down at the same time she throw her pillow into his face. Julian chuckled, throwing the pillow back at her, setting his own mug down. He laughed again, jumping on her before she was able to throw it back.

They wrestled for a few minutes, laughing and tickling each other in a messy tumble of her hair as it flew everywhere. Julian grunted as he landed on his back. He had fallen off the couch and Dax landed on top of him, laughing hard into his shoulder.

Julian felt her chest vibrating against his, her breath warm on his neck. He laughed with her, distracted though by the way her body fit with his, the feel of her legs between his as their hips balanced perfectly.

It wasn't until Julian's laughing stilled, his body tensing, that she looked up to notice their position. The laughter slowly faded from her eyes, her smile disappearing. She reached out, touching his face, sending shivers throughout his body. Julian closed his eyes, trying to control his breathing as his heart pounded violently in his chest.

Then Jadzia pushed herself forward, their faces inches apart. He could feel her chest heaving against him, its movements as erratic as his. Her lips brushed against his, the kiss so soft he almost believed she hadn't kissed him at all.

Julian shivered under her cold lips, his hands running up and down her shoulder blades. She kissed him just beneath his chin, moving to kiss the edge of his lips. He tilted his head, joining his lips with hers.

/-/-/-/

/- **_A Few Days Later_**

"Excuse me, sir. Dr. Tanith is here to see you."

Amen looked up at the Ensign, letting out a deep breath. Shaking his hand, he wiped his hands off as he turned to face the door. "Let him in."

Tanith walked around the Ensign hesitantly, fiddling with his hands awkwardly. "M-mr. President?"

"Yes? What can I do for you?"

He looked behind him at the retreating Ensign. "It- it's ready."

"Good." Amen nodded slowly. "Have some prepared to be taken to the target."

"Excuse me?"

Amen looked up at the doctor. "We need to test it. A target has already been decided."

Tanith nodded rapidly, turning slowly away from the President. "P-P-President?"

"Yes?"

Tanith looked to Amen's face, finding his eyes before looking immediately away. "You-you know what w-will happen to anyone that en-encounters it?"

"Yes, Doctor. You have told me."

"Right." He nodded, turning away and back again. "You know, it won't work on e-everyone? So-some'll die." Amen looked up from his painting, just watching the man annoyed. A sigh left Tanith's lips as he turned away. "I-I'll prepare what you want."

"Thank-you. Now get out of here."

"Yes, sir."

/-/-/-/

/- **_Around the Same Time_**

"So? When's the wedding?"

Blue eyes glared at the Bajoran, Dax just shaking her head. "It was one date, Kira."

"One date? Oh, please. You two have not been spending a night alone."

Jadzia sighed. "That is a great exaggeration."

Kira's head titled to the side, an expression of amusement entering her eyes. "No…?"

Jadzia's eyes turned to follow Kira's glance. Julian and Miles were carrying two drinks each, laughing loudly as they headed for the table.

With a sigh, the Trill leaned back in her chair, feeling her hair brush against the wall. That's where she liked to sit on a day with her friends. She liked being in the back where no one would interrupt, where they weren't being pestered or interrupted by anyone. The noisy bar even seemed somewhat quieter there.

"I'm not out with Julian… I'm out with my friends."

"Give up!"

"Give up what?" The Irish cadence met their ears, catching both females' ears. The Chief set down Kira's drink in front of her and straddled the chair to her left.

Jadzia just shrugged, "Nothing, Chief. Oh, thanks." Kira smirked as Julian handed her the mug and sat down besides her. "Shut up."

Julian and Miles looked between the two women and then at each other. Kira laughed both at the confused looks and then at Jadzia. "I didn't say anything," was her response.

"Is there something you two want to share with the class?"

"No, Julian."

"I think we should share with Julian."

"No we shouldn't." Dax glanced at Julian, feeling him shift his weight to look at her. He had that goofy, British smirk of his, enjoying something about her squirming with Kira. She caught his eye. They shone with some foreign emotion, something she couldn't quite identify on his face. A slow smile tugged at her lips and she looked away, feeling her spots starting to blush.

Dax vaguely heard something grasp the attention of the Chief and Major, their voices arguing over something. Warm breath grazed her ear, a soft British accent in her voice. "Are you… blushing?"

"Me? The infamous Dax? Never."

His laugh tickled her cheek, deepening the blush. She turned, finding that his face was even closer than she had thought. Eyes glancing down then back up, it was a tempting thought to just lean forward…

"Oh, please. Dax, tell him I'm right."

"You are not! Dax."

Julian leaned back quickly, immediately finding his tea far more interesting. Jadzia pushed a strand of black hair behind her ear, looking up at the two. "What?"

/-/-/-/

/- **_A Week Later_**

Will looked down in distaste at his uniform. There had been a day when he was proud to put it on, to wear it. When he loved strutting it around, using it to attract women.

But today, like most days in the past couple of years, he hated it. It was a reminder of everything that was going on around him. It was a reminder of the things he had done to start the whole chain reaction.

And he hated it. Hated it all.

Slipping his arms into the sleeves, he pulled it over his shoulders, sighing as he shifted it into a more comfort position. Zipping the front, he looked up, suddenly facing his reflection.

He starred a moment at himself. A Captain, that's what his pips said. But he was a Captain only because of what he did three and a half years ago. He hated everything that he had done that day… even the fact that it gave him his extra pip.

He sighed, shifting his shoulders once again.

There had been a day, years ago, when his goal was singularly set on getting that pip. He'd nearly lost the only woman he loved, his Imzadi, for that ridicules goal. And now he had the pip, he had the uniform… but all he wanted was her.

With a deep breath, Will looked down at the dresser, picking up his combadge. Looking at his chest, he placed it firmly where it belonged.

Looking at himself one last time, Riker placed his Captain mask over everything, hiding his inner emotions from the outside world. Then he turned and walked out.

/-/-/-/

/- **_Around the Same Time_**

"What do you have to report?"

Ken sighed as he approached the President, shaking his head. "Not much, I'm afraid. I don't think it's ready, sir-"

"Really? That's funny because Dr. Tanith has already said that it is."

Ken stopped short, mouth opened as if to say something. He closed it, his stunned mind working to figure out what had been said. "Really?" was all that came from his mouth.

"Yes. As a matter of fact, he's been down working on a way to transport it for the passed few days."

"Really?"

Amen nodded. "You didn't know about this?"

"No." Ken looked away, rubbing his neck. "I told him that we weren't ready."

"He seems to think that we are."

"And I said we aren't."

Amen smirked, hearing the anger in his retort. "Are you a medical doctor?" This made Ken pause, shifting his wait from one foot to the other.

"No, but-"

"He is. He says it's ready. Now your opinion… are we ready?"

Ken sighed and shrugged. "Maybe."

"Maybe?"

Ken caught his eye. "Yes, we're ready." Looking away, "May I leave?"

"Get out of here."

/-/-/-/

/- **_Around the Same Time_**

"Aren't you going to say 'hi' to your old friend?"

A smile broke out on Genny lips, his feet pausing in their movement. He looked up quickly from his PADD, pivoting around slowly to see her. "Pell!"

"Hey, Genny! How have you been?"

He shrugged, draping his arm around her shoulder and leading her forward. "Same, same. You?"

The Trill sighed. "Not really a good point of discussion."

"All this stuff with Earth that bad?"

"Yes. It's getting pretty bad, Genny…" she sighed, placing a hand on his chest. "But I don't want to talk about all that. How's everything going? You still working on Keltrais?"

"Yeah. The place is as up and running as well as it can be for now. The people there seem fine enough with everything. Uh… we've added more room so they can spread out better." The man shrugged. "There's not much to tell."

Pell nodded. "And the Zaraxians? They- I don't know- okay to everyone?"

Genny shrugged. "They've been good to me and my team the entire time."

"Yeah, well, with their supply of Adaquan at stake, of course they're being nice."

"So," he started, letting his arm fall off her shoulders, both hands playing awkwardly with his PADD. "What happens in a few years when the deal is over?"

Pell shrugged, "Officially the Zaraxians have no treaties with the Norhians. We'll have to make one. Possibly we will just renew the one we currently have."

"What did we originally get for the Adaquan?"

She looked at him, her head tilting to the side. "Certain metals we traded with the Breen. But that's not the Alliance's problems."

"Right… enough shoptalk. Are you free to grab some lunch?"

"Give me…twenty minutes."

"Sure."

/-/-/-/

/- **_Around the Same Time_**

"Are you sure you want to finish it? Because I could stop, you look tired."

"I'm… I'm not tired!" The child said, stifling a yawn. Will smirked, shaking his head as he looked at his little girl.

He looked down at the book in his hands, opening his mouth to continue. But then he looked back at Liz and said instead, "Are you sure?"

"Daddy!" she wined, "I want to hear the end."

"Okay, okay. So…

"…the young man played a strange tune on his flute. It could be heard all throughout the town. Rats, big and small, young and old, of all colours, started coming from all directions and followed the Piper. People stood watching in great surprise."

Will glanced up smiling as Liz starred intently at the drawn image of the Piper playing his flute, rats of all kind following him along a dirt path. "And as the rats followed, the Piper went through the town, until he reached the river. The Piper jumped into the river and the rats followed, all of the rats drowning in the deep waters."

"And when the Piper came back, everyone in town was happy and cheered. The Piper went to get his hundred gold pieces," Will said, showing the next picture of the old Frengi. "But the greedy Frengi went back on their word and offered him only one gold piece. The angry Piper decided to take revenge and left immediately."

Liz's eyes drooped, a soft yawn on her lips. "The Piper stood in the street and played a new tune, a sweeter one. Hearing the sound, all of the children followed him, charmed by the sweet music. Even though parents rushed out after them, the children, fascinated by the music, continued to follow the Piper.

"The Piper took them to a towering mountain to where the people of the town could never see their children again. He took the children to a land of happiness; in a land where the sky was always blue and the sun always shining, and the children learned to be kind and selfless."

"And without the laughter of the children in Hamelin, the townsfolk lived in sadness for the rest of their lives. They realized that if they had not been so selfish and had not cheated the Piper, their children would still be with them. This taught them a valuable lesson. The end," Will sighed and he closed the book.

A grin tugged his lips as he saw Liz's eyes shut closed. Brushing his lips against her forehead, he sighed, "Night, Little One."

/-/-/-/

/- **_A Couple Days Later_**

_Hands grabbed for his clothes and arms. He pushed them away, stumbling through the crowd of lifeless people. Some moaned, putting their faces in his. _

_Spinning around, his back felt other's behind him, pushing into him. A scream escaped his lips. Trying to run from the people, he tripped, landing with his face on the ground, his hands hurt from the impact. _

_He looked to his right. An older woman coughed severely, then she reached out to lay her hand on his. He ripped it away, fighting to contain his disgust at the blood on the back of his hand. _

_He attempted to crawl away, sparing only a single glance at the woman. Blood trailed from her mouth, her eyes opened and rolled to the back of her head. _

_Another scream was lost on all ears but his as he scurried away. His movement was halted as his hand rested on an arm. The man's face was pale-_

Tanith's eyes sprung open, startled out of sleep. Rubbing his eyes, he got quickly from his bed, feeling a strong need to wake himself fully. He bit back his surprise of the water's temperature, surprised awake.

Today was the day, he knew. He knew that somewhere out there, that Mikolian vessel had reached the outpost. Some random outpost, small he had been told.

They would release the toxin soon, in hours perhaps. And, by the end of the day, they would all be like those in his dream… zombies… or dead.

/-/-/-/

/- **_Around the Same Time_**

"Read 'em and weep boys. Straight Flush!"

Groans broke out over the table as the Lieutenant Commander hand was laid before them. He chuckled, pulling the chips to him, as he saw the others toss in their cards.

"Alright, Paul, now I know you're cheating."

Paul Merwe smirked as he shuffled the cards, expertly tossing them out to everyone. "Duces still wild?"

"Sure." Lieutenant Chet Syn smiled as watched Jess's ritual. As her cousin had taught her- she had once confessed- she always took the top card, circled it around the others, and then set it on the bottom.

Syn looked away, picking his own hand up. His lip twitched, but he hid it as he tossed his chip in.

"So, Ensign," Paul said, looking up at the newbie. "What could you have possibly done to get someone so pissed off you ended up here?"

Liam Gavin grinned, a light entering his green eyes. "My, uh, CO and I didn't see eye to eye about something."

"Yeah? And?" Jess urged, eyes turning away form her cards to see his hand pass through his red hair.

Liam shrugged. "I only broke his leg."

"You broke your CO's leg?" A stunned laugh left Syn as he looked at the Human security officer. "I hope by accident."

"Well… sort of. I hadn't intended on it happening, if that's what you mean."

The officers laughed; the Trill most amused. Syn's face seemed ready to split as he said, "Something similar happened to me- only I just threatened to do bodily harm… I never actually touched him."

Liam smirked. "Ya all here because you pissed someone off?"

"Well, we didn't ask for this waste hole assignment, if that's what you're asking. Come on, ante up people."

/-/-/-/

/- **_The Next Day_**

The dark Captain rose, starring down at the desert planet below his ship. He sighed, turning his green eyes to the young Vigolian Lieutenant. "Any lifesigns?"

"Forty seven," the Vigolian responded, looking over his shoulder to the Captain.

"There was a compliment of sixty."

"Yes," the Captain nodded, glancing over at his first officer. "But why aren't they responding?"

The blonde shrugged, stepping up to her Captain as she pushed away a stray lock. "Perhaps comms are down."

"Negative, Commander," the Lieutenant answered coolly. "The communication system is undamaged- ah, sir, their power grid is becoming critically unstable."

The Captain nodded. "Transport everyone to Cargo Bay Four."

"Aye, sir."

"Back us away, Helm."

"We've got them," announced the Lieutenant, as he looked over at his Captain from the Ops station.

"Shields up, Zander**_-_**"

The ship shook violently, the shields just barely up in time to protect them from the suddenly energy wave. Both Captain and Commander fell to the ground, the Commander hitting her forehead on the edge of someone's chair.

"Report!"

"The outpost is destroyed, sir."

The Captain rose, giving a hand to his first officer. She took it wearily bringing her other to touch the opened wound. Wincing, she heard the tactical officer report, "All systems appear to be functioning. No casualties."

With a nod of satisfaction, the Captain turned to look at the viewscreen. The small moon was gone, shattered into hundreds of large chunks. He just starred at it in awe, disbelief settling in his mind.

"_Captain, this is Dr. Salizhan. I'm in the Cargo Bay now. You won't believe this."_

"What is it?"

Salizhan looked around herself, eyes glancing over the people around her. Most were wandering, looking in a daze, others were yelling. Her eyes stopped on a young man, rocking in the far corner, hands over his ears as he muttered to himself.

"I'm not sure yet."

/-/-/-/-/

Hmm... wonder what's going on with that one?

I hope everyone's enjoying the DS9 plotline, because Julian and Jadzia are probably my favourite couple that never happened :(. (Damn Worf...)

And we're getting some Riker angst over Starfleet. If any of you had ever seen Babylon 5, I'll admit that I stole the jacket concept from there.

Anyway, hope you enjoyed. Review and tell me your favourite part- it would make me happy :). Hugs!


	9. Year 4: 2375, continued

_Author's Note: _I'm so sorry about the wait for these two. I was so busy getting ready to go away for the weekend and, you know, being away for the weekend, that I completely forgot about them. Sorry!

I hope absence just made your heart grow founder for these chapters. Enjoy!

/-/-/-/

/- _**March, A Few Days Later**_

"Captain's Log: Stardate: 37503.01.

"Ambassador Troi's insistence of our speedy return to Betazed has me worried. Though it is much like her to have a knack for dramatic flare, this… this is different. A different kind of… distress I haven't seen before with her."

Riker paused, rubbing at his stubby chin, as he considered removing his last sentence. Shrugging it off, he licked his lips and began again. "Uh, computer, delete last sentence."

"_Sentence deleted,"_ the computer beeped.

"Continue… We're about another day from Betazed. We should be there next morning according to Data.

"Even though, I still have not been informed of why we're going. I guess I'll find out tomorrow, huh?"

He just sighed. "Right. Computer, end log."

/-/-/-/

/- _**Around the Same Time**_

"Ah, there you are," Lwaxana said with a grateful sigh, hustling over to the small group, her long robes flowing behind her as she walked.

Elizabeth gave a toothless smile, trying to wiggle out of her father's arms. "Gamma!" Lwaxana had to smile, truly overjoyed to see the little child once again. It was unfortunate that they did not get to see each other very often any longer.

Lwaxana calmly took the squirming child from her father, holding the girl contently in her arms. _"Hello, Little One. How have you been?"_ Lwaxana asked the little telepath. She was impressed at the six-year-old's ability, considering she was only one forth Betazoid.

She looked back over at her father and mother for a second, as if contemplating what they might say as an answer. Looking back at her grandmother, she smiled and responded, _"I been a good girl, Gamma!"_

"_I bet you have,"_ she said with a smile.

Looking back at the others, they seemed unfazed by the silent conversation that had gone on between the pair, though not even Deanna knew what had been said. But, in an instant, that sweet moment was gone and Riker returned to being the Captain he was.

"You said there was something important to show us," Riker reminded Lwaxana.

"Yes… but I don't think Elizabeth should join us," the Ambassador told her daughter and son-in-law.

"Um, Data, would you mind taking her outside. Let her play in the garden," Deanna asked, Data moving instantly to take the child from her grandmother. "Thank-you, Data."

Seeing that the pair was far enough done the hall, Lwaxana ushered the remaining three with her. "Some of our top people have been working for a week on this, they haven't even begun to understand any of it."

"Any of what?" Dr. Crusher asked, finally able to involve herself in the conversation.

"This." The Betazoid pointed the observation window she had opened.

A level down, a large number of people were laying in biobeds. Throughout the room were even rows, enough to fit the thirty people within the room. Some clung to their beds as if lifesavers, other wandered aimlessly in the room until someone sat them back down, and others starred blankly into space as they either laid or sat on their beds.

"These are the more… milder cases."

Crusher's eyes were still focused on the room as she gasped, "Mild?"

"Others became more violent; they're in isolation where they won't hurt anyone. Some cases have become completely catatonic," Lwaxana explained.

"What happened to them?" Will asked, forcing himself to look away.

"All fifty of these cases came from Outpost 79- on the Alliance border. From what we could gather from the logs and reports, one of Amen's ships released some kind of… biochemical weapon into their atmosphere. Over three days they just… lost their minds.

"We don't know much more than that; the logs were rather incomplete and, by the time we got there, no one was able to talk sanely. There was no longer any sign of the toxin in their bodies or atmosphere."

Deanna listened to what her mother had to say, taking in the words and she watched the people below. But what shocked her more than the story was her mother's voice; even with a situation as grotesque as this one, Deanna had never expected to hear such defeat and anger.

Riker sighed, rubbing his neck. "Do you think they'll use it again?"

"I wouldn't doubt it. They wouldn't have gone to such lengths to hit an outpost for only a statement. Especially with biowarfare. That was probably a warning; maybe a practice testing of the weapon," Deanna told them, finally looking away from the room below.

"I agree. I wouldn't doubt that they plan on using it again. Whether they can or will, I wouldn't begin to guess," Crusher said. "Let's just hope they don't plan to use it on civilians."

"Come. We have much more to discuss with the doctors." With that, Lwaxana led them away, the window to the medical ward still allowing anyone to peer down at the former officers.

/-/-/-/

"I want you to meet a Dr. Salizhan," Lwaxana announced to the others, banging on the glass door. "She was on the _U.S.S. Pompeii_ when they found these people."

Looking through the crowd, Lwaxana spotted the doctor. Activating the comlink, they were able to hear, "Sit down, Ensign. Ensign-"

"Doctor. Dr. Salizhan!"

Lwaxana's words caught her attention, the Vigolian turning her mechanical grey eyes to the four. Riker grimaced; he still wasn't quite used to seeing eyes like that. And the mask over her face was equally as unnerving.

A small nod to herself, the doctor approached the glass wall, hitting the comlink on her side. "Ambassador."

"Dr. Salizhan. I'd like you to meet Dr. Crusher, my daughter Counselor Troi, and my son-in-law Captain Riker."

The doctor nodded, her smirk hidden behind her mask. "Yes, Captain Riker. Pleasure."

Riker smiled. A glance at Deanna wiping it from his face. "Doctor."

"I wanted-"

"Ensign, please sit down. Nurse! Restraints!" She turned back to them, shrugging an apology. "Sorry about that. This facility just wasn't made to house all of these people in their conditions."

Deanna looked around at the blocks of beds. "What exactly is wrong with them?"

Salizhan shook her head and sighed. "We don't really know. Hell, we don't even know how this thing is transmitted."

"Yes, Ambassador Troi said there was no trace of a virus or toxin of any sort," Crusher stated, "not even at the outpost."

"Unfortunately the outpost was destroyed before we could investigate. But I doubt that it would have yielded many answers. They sure haven't." Salizhan sighed and looked to Riker. "I've heard rumors that this came from Earth. Is that true?"

Riker looked at her through the clear window. Her voice was distorted. He wondered whether that was from the comms or her mask. "We don't know. That'd be our guess. That or President Amen has some type of connection. But that's unofficially."

She nodded, pushing a lock of black hair behind her ear, a few blue streaked hairs falling back into her face. "Politics for you. Nothing's ever official unless it's a lie or a cover up." Riker gave a quick laugh, Lwaxana not speaking up to voice her opinion on the statement.

She gave a small cough, looking over her shoulder. "I, uh, have to get back."

"Of course."

"Would you mind, Captain, if I go in there and lend a hand?" Crusher looked between her Captain and the doctor.

Salizhan shrugged. "The more, the merrier."

With a sigh, Riker nodded. "Just don't stay all night."

"Aye, sir."

"Over this way, doctor. You'll have to…"

Their voices died away as they walked around the corner. Riker looked to Lwaxana, sighing and then looking back into the room. "Is there any real hope for them?"

"Right now? No."

"So," he sighed, "damn."

Lwaxana nodded her agreement. And, after a moment of silence, she turned to Will and Deanna. "If you don't mind, William, could I steal my daughter away from you for a few hours?"

Will glanced at Deanna; she just shrugged. Clearing his throat, "I guess not."

"Good. Deanna?"

The younger Betazed gave a silent sigh before kissing Will on the cheek. "See you later. Go find your daughter." He smirked and nodded, arms crossed over his chest as he watched mother and daughter walk away.

"Were you never going to tell me about my grandson?"

Deanna looked over at her mother, her sudden shock quickly replaced. A slow smile spread over her lips. "You can tell that it's a boy?"

Lwaxana smiled and nodded. "Of course… how far along are you?"

"I'm due in mid-September."

/-/-/-/

/- _**Around the Same Time**_

"President," came the low groan from the man on the screen.

Amen smirked, not taking the insult for what it was. "It is good to see you, as well, Commander Jaron. How have you been?"

"No."

"Excuse me?"

"You come to me only when you need someone killed. My answer, is no."

Amen sighed, shaking his head slightly. Leaning back in his chair, his chin rest on his folded hands. "I don't think that you have an answer when it comes to this."

Jaron sighed, glancing away for a moment, leaning closer to the screen. Looking back at Amen, "What is that supposed to mean?"

"It means exactly what it sounds like… you do not get a choice in this matter… you will do this."

"And if I refuse."

"That would not be wise."

"And why not."

"Because," Amen answered easily, "Your, uh… Banter has already agreed to my terms… he had offered to give you the order but we hadn't talked in so long that… well I had to be the one to do it.

"So," Amen sighed, once again leaning back in his chair. "I can always get him back on the comm. and tell him of the situation. Then he can of course contact you and order you to do that same thing. But then you'll be in trouble for disobeying an order and will have inconvenienced him.

"Hardly necessary, don't you think?"

A snarl seemed to form on Jaron's lips. But he swallowed down his pride, letting out a deep groan. "Fine. What is it this time?"

"Oh, I think you are going to like this. I need twenty of your ships to enter Alliance space…"

/-/-/-/

/- _**June, Two Months Later**_

"Captain's Log. Stardate, 37506.03.

"Well… the _Enterprise_'s crew has done all they can to help Betazoid doctors with the forty-seven patients."

Will sighed, taking a deep breath as he scratched his chin. "I don't really know what's what with them, I just don't know what Dr. Crusher keeps telling me. But I know it's not looking good for them. Computer, end recording."

Riker stood, walking to stand in front of the window. He stood there a long time, watching the planet below as it spun slowly below him. Or, rather, as he spun slowly around it.

But it didn't matter to him. He just watched the trails of blues and whites swirling around the globe, the dark browns and greens of the land.

"Computer… ignore order. Continue recording.

"Uh, _Enterprise_ will be leaving orbit is two weeks to _Shadow Land_ before taking up a new position on the Alliance-Federation boarder…"

He sighed again, scratching his nose. "Uh… computer, end log."

/-/-/-/

"How was your day with your mother?"

Deanna sighed, running her hand over his bare chest. "My mother… will always be Lwaxana. But surprisingly it wasn't too bad. We actually had some civilized conversations."

"Really?" He smirked, rubbing her arm.

"Yes. What about you? Did you and Liz have fun?"

He nodded into her hair, smiling at the memories. "Data came with us to the art gallery. But we lost him once he met the musicians. I think he ended up playing with them before we left."

"You left _Data_ with Betazoid musicians?"

Will shrugged. "I didn't think they'd mind." She laughed into his chest, tickling the sensitive area.

"You evil, evil man… Then what did you do?"

"Nothing really. I took her to the park and she played with some of the kids. Then we took a walk around that, uh, that garden we used to go to all the time. The one by the lake."

"Right. I bet she loved it there."

"She sure seemed to." Deanna nodded, sighing as she settled against him.

Will trailed his hand over her back slowly, eyes starring at the ceiling as he thought over the words he wanted to say to her. She shifted against him, feeling his unease, looking up at him.

"Deanna," he started slowly before she could say anything, "I've been thinking… maybe… maybe you should stay here on Betazed with your mother. You and Elizabeth."

"Will-"

"Deanna, listen, please," he stopped her, shifting to look her in the eye. "With this… new threat, I don't want to risk it. The Betazoid government has already offered housing for any family of our officers. If you won't stay at the station, please stay here."

"Will, I'm an officer on this ship. I won't abandon my post."

He sighed and looked away. Rubbing her arm, Will caught her eye. "Then I can transfer you off _Enterprise_."

"What?" She said as she pulled away from him. "Will-"

"This chemical warfare is just as much a psychological problem as it is physical. They'll need good psychologists. That's you. You can help here." He paused. His voice grew more desperate when he said, "Please, Deanna, for our daughter… for our other child. Please."

She searched his eyes, finding only concern and worry in them. She looked away and closed her eyes. He was right; this- whatever it was- could harm her children and a starship was no place for Liz at the moment.

Will looked up at her brown eyes, loosing himself in them. Finally she relented. "Alright, I'll do it, for our children."

/-/-/-/

/- _**A Week Later**_

"So, how was work?"

"Mm… work was… work."

"Thank-you for your elaborate details. Paints a brilliant picture of what you did today."

"See, I always told my mother I'd make a far better writer… or was that Audrid? Mmm…"

Jadzia relaxed against the armrest, her legs resting on Julian's lap as she lay sprawled out on the couch. Julian, for his part, was reclining his feet on the coffee table, his hands busy at work massaging the soles of Dax's feet.

"Audrid? What did she do anyway?"

"Um… Audrid was a… chef."

"A chef?" Jadzia just nodded from behind her PADD. "A chef. I didn't know you could cook."

"Sure I can… with Trill food anyway. Old Trill food," she mused, moaning softly when Julian's fingers hit a nerve. A silence fell over the two, Julian continuing to absently massage Dax's feet.

Jadzia looked away from her PADD, watching Julian for a moment, her eyes serious as she regarded him. "Julian?"

Julian didn't look up; instead he just grunted a soft, "Hmm?"

"Do you want children?"

His hands slowed to a stop as her words sunk in, his mind taking a moment to process that she wanted an answer. He looked up at her, looking into her eyes, knowing that she was searching his face for a response.

He just watched her a moment, thinking through what she had asked… A child? That was a large step- and he hadn't yet managed to ask her to marry him.

"A-a child? I don't… I mean, I would… I would like one, but-"

"I didn't mean right this minute, Julian," she said with a smile, Julian just noticing that her PADD had been set on the table some point before.

"I know… why are you asking?"

She shrugged. "Talking about Audrid made me remember how much Dax loved being a mother. What it was like."

Julian nodded, looking down at his hands on top of Dax's feet. "I think," he began, glancing back at her, "that I would like that..."

/-/-/-/

/- _**A Week Later**_

Will looked down at the child in his arms, amazed by the innocence of youth, even in a galaxy so full of evil. The sleeping bundle yawned, moving as she did to snuggle closer to her father.

With a sigh, he stood from the rocking chair, the storybook forgotten as he moved toward her bed. Pulling back the covers, he laid the child in bed. Sighing softly, he covered her small body with her blanket to guard her from the cool Betazoid nights.

He brushed her cheek, moving a stray brown lock, then brushed his lips against her forehead. "Good-bye, Little One."

Walking to the door, he whispered to the computer to lower the lights. He stood watching her, not moving or looking away as the doors closed in his face. He let his eyes fall closed, knowing it could be the last time he saw his daughter.

He sauntered across the hall, opening the door to Deanna's old room. Will let out a breath, looking over the room he remembered from his youth. His eyes searched the room, seeing she wasn't there. He walked further into the room and found her standing on the balcony, her thin nightgown flowing as she looked out at her beautiful world.

Stepping up behind her, Will slid his arms around her waist, reaching farther than normal other the slight bulge. "I wish we didn't have to do this."

Deanna leaned back into him with his touch, her hands resting against his hips. "No one should have to do this… but we are. This is the right choice, Will. It's not safe for our children…"

Will swallowed back all his words, not knowing what else he could say to her. There would be time… he knew there would be. There had to be.

For a long time, the couple just stayed there, enjoying the other's company as they desperately tried to forget everything else. For that moment, Will wanted to pretend they were the young couple that had met years ago on the same planet. They were no longer faced with a civil war… just each other.

"You should get going." Deanna whispered to him, a tear slipping from her control, falling down her cheek.

"I wish I didn't have to…"

"It's your responsibility, Will. I understand that. Just as I understand this is _my_ new responsibility." Turning in his arms, she wrapped her arms around him. "We'll see each other again, that I'm sure of."

Will nodded, lost for words. _"I love you, Imzadi."_

"_I love you, too, Imzadi. Now go. Before I won't let you!"_

A tiny smile graced his lips as he moved away from her. The sad look in his eyes never dissipated, Deanna could even feel it as the transporter beam carried him away.

"Good-bye, Imzadi."

/-/-/-/

/- _**Two Weeks Later**_

He tapped his fingers tunelessly against the counter in front of him, looking around the empty chamber. Pok sighed as he leaned back in his chair, looking to his left as he saw Moricz sit beside him.

The Vigolian glanced at him, nodded, and looked away. A few seconds passed before he looked back, Pok having not looked away. "What?"

"Are you gaining weight?"

Moricz just looked at him, opening his mouth. "Excuse me?"

The Bolian shrugged and shook his head. Looking away, he said, "You just seem… chubbier than the last time I saw you."

"Well, if you must know," Moricz said, starring at the Bolian, "I'm pregnant."

Pok did a double take, eyes glancing over him. "I though you were a male."

"I am… but just because your females give birth, doesn't mean it's the same for mine."

"Can you say hormonal?"

Moricz looked at him. "I heard that."

"I never had these problems with my wife when she was pregnant."

"What?"

Pok shrugged, looking over at the door as he heard Lwaxana enter, Pell behind her. He looked back at Moricz. "You should have it near a warp core."

"Wh-"

"It'll increase its disposition."

"Good morning. Sorry I'm late. Let's get this going." Sitting down, Lwaxana looked around at the other four Council members next to her. "What do we have to report about the new ships?"

"Uh," the Moricz glanced down at the PADD on the table. "Five have already been completed. We have personnel from Alliance planets being brought in. Uh, Captain Riker and Captain Jayton have offered dozens of names for the positions of Captain and Commander."

He glanced back to the PADD, then looked to Lwaxana. "Three more are almost competed and eight have their foundations set."

"Very good. We'll go over that list later." He nodded and pushed the PADD aside. "Any other news?" Looking around, no one said anything. "Very good."

"What about the patients? The ones infected with the biotoxin?"

Lwaxana looked at T'Pel. "No change." She shrugged, "They say there might never be."

Their voices were cut short as the chamber doors slammed open, the other Ambassadors filling the walls around her.

/-/-/-/

/- _**A Week Later**_

"Where's Data?"

Riker glanced over to see Dr. Crusher descending down the ramp, turning around the tactical station. He sighed, offering the seat to his left to her. She sat in it easily, turning her body look at him. "Oh, I, uh, send him away for a shift or two now and then. Even an android needs his rest."

She gave a small burst of laughter, shortened by the harden lines around his eyes. "Are you doing okay?"

He shrugged. "A sixteen hour shift everyday, a couple hours of sleep… Data picks up all the slack… it's not that bad, just not how I thought it would be-"

"No," she sighed, shaking her head. "I meant…" But then she stopped herself, as if rethinking how wise it was to bring up such a topic.

Riker sighed, glancing down to see whose vacant seat she had taken. He sighed, bowing his head. With a deep breath he looked away from her.

"I miss her. A lot. I want her and Liz back… and I'm missing help with everything. … I sort of missed some things last time, with it short and everything…"

Crusher nodded, rubbing his arm. "Hey… just think of it this way… as Captain of this ship and a big wig of the fleet, you could- hypothetically- go where ever you want, whenever you want. Could you not?"

A slow smile came over Riker's lips, chucking at the idea. "Yeah, we could run off for a few days. Head to Betazed…" She smiled. But then he sighed and shook his head. "Unfortunately, that won't happen."

"And why not?"

"Because we're being sent to Deep Space Nine."

/-/-/-/

/- _**August, Two Weeks Later**_

"_Hey there, Little One."_

Liz smiled, hearing the echo of her grandmother's voice before turning to see her. "Gamma! Look!"

She smiled as the girl grabbed her fingers, pulling her towards her play area. Lwaxana dropped to her knees to better see what she was trying to show her. Liz pushed a single button to start the game, immediately drawn into solving the holographic puzzle before her.

Lwaxana watched her eyes, easily sensing the telepathic power she was drawling into. The game beeped, the grandmother looking to it. The puzzle was already completed, an amazing fleet for one so young… and with so little Betazoid blood.

"_Very good, Liz. Wonderful."_ The girl beamed, her eyes glowing.

Lwaxana glanced away, hardly noticing the quiet tranquillity of Betazed still inside the walls of the daycare. All the children were Betazoid, all able by that age to communicate well enough with each other. The silence was only broken by the sound of toys and the computer.

She thought for just a moment how odd it was to be surrounded by only Betazoid children. But she guessed most of her city was Betazoid. Any others were mostly those who held diplomatic positions, and they did not usually have or bring their families along with them.

"_We ready to go?"_

The girl looked at her, then back at her game. She shrugged, pressing more buttons on her game.

"_Hey… turn that off. We should go." _Letting out a breath, Liz turned it off. _"Now go put it away."_

/-/-/-/

/- _**Two Weeks Later**_

"What's that?" Julian jumped scared by Kira's sudden words. Shoving something into his pocket, he vaguely heard Kira say, "Sorry," over the noise in Quark's bar.

He shrugged and turned to the Major, noticing easily that she was dressed for duty. "Heading to the Ops?"

She looked down at herself, then back at him. "Yeah. In just a second. You waiting for Dax?"

He nodded, taking the final sip of his drink. "Yeah. Dinner in the holosuite."

"Sounds fun. So what was that you put in your pocket?"

"What?"

"The thing, you were looking at. You put it in your pocket."

He shrugged, setting his hands awkwardly behind him. "Nothing."

"Really? Then do you always stare at imaginary objects? Or is that just in your free time?" An amused smile spread over her face as a soft blush crept over his.

"Nothing," he repeated.

"Come on, Julian. I won't tell anyone."

Julian was hesitant to show her at first. But, after a few seconds of silent debate, he held out his hand for her to see. She took the box slowly, glancing at him with curious confusion before cracking it open.

A small gasp escaped her as she saw the sapphire rock set on a silver band, the two blending beautifully together.

"By the Profits, Julian, it's beautiful!" She exclaimed, handing it back to him. "For Jadzia?"

"Yeah," he shrugged, closing the box and slipping it back into his jacket pocket.

"What is it? You're anniversary or something?"

"Ah, no," Julian told her with a slight laugh. "No, it's…" his voice grew quiet as he said, "it's an engagement ring." Julian gave a small smirk and a sigh at her confused look. "On Earth, an engagement ring is traditional given to… to ask for their hand in marriage."

"We have nothing like that on Bajor."

"What about wedding rings?"

"No. No rings at all. Our weddings are a lot… different," she told him. Slowly a smile returned to her lips. "When are you going to give it to her?"

He opened his mouth to say something, but stopped immediately. Julian's eyes were focused just behind Kira, his mouth slowly closing as a smile spread across his lips.

"Hey, you," Jadzia greeting, wrapping her arm around his waist. "Nerys."

The Bajoran smiled and gave an uncomfortable cough. "I have to… get going. Have fun."

"Thanks."

"Shall we go?"

"Yeah, let's."

/-/-/-/

"How's everything looking, Major?"

The Bajoran sighed. "Overly dull, Captain."

"Good. Just the way I like things." She shook her head, turning back to her console. "I'll be in my office." She nodded, glancing over to see him springing up the stairs to his ready room.

Leave it to the Cardassians to design an office that requires stairs to get to. Just another way to make them more superior, even to their own kind. That's what they're like- egotistical, arrogant, and just play conceited.

And Kira hated them. Maybe not so much for what they had done in the past, not anymore. It's not like she would ever forgive them for what they did, but it was hardly the entire races' fault for the actions of the forebears. She just refused to spread her hatred for them down to her children.

She sighed, sinking into her chair. She'd never know what she saw in her job. Any real action was never a good thing- it meant injured, casualties, repairs, and lots and lots of paperwork. The adrenaline rush was hardly worth it.

But when the action was down, it was _very _down. And that was almost worse.

All she asked for was a middle somewhere. Action and adrenaline but no injuries and no paperwork and no repairs, that's all she wanted. But that was hardly acceptable.

So why did she stay? The Profits only know.

/-/-/-/

Ken walked out slowly, glancing to both sides of the balcony. He sighed, walking to the far right to find Amen leaning against the rail.

The Ambassador paused and watched his President for a sort time. His neck was craned far back, eyes undoubtedly starring at the dark night sky. His black hair hung down some because of his position; it had been growing longer over the past few months, Amen never bothering to cut it.

Ken stayed quiet, not sure if he really wanted to speak with the man. He wasn't sure if he wanted to share the news; he definably didn't like it. But Amen would. He would be giddy, Ken imagined.

He hated it when Amen got happy, like mad happy. The man was insane; there was no denying it. It just sort of made him anxious when Amen became too quiet or too happy… but especially when he became too angry. That was the worst.

Sometimes he would throw things. He had on occasion flipped a desk or table. Once, when he was very mad, he had shattered one of his windows. Ken still smirked when he thought of his lie to Amen.

He had told him that the forceshields installed where so that he could easily escape his office when he wished to walk through the gardens. The President had thought it overly clever. Ken had just done it to avoid another episode of fending off the press and rumors.

Finally Ken cleared his throat, making himself known to Amen. But the President did nothing. He didn't turn in surprise, or to greet him. He just continued to stare up at the sky.

"How many do you think are up there? Visible?"

Ken glanced up and shrugged. "Who knows?"

Amen gave a small chuckle and nod, still starring up at the stars. "Some old saying… from some planet says that only the most patient man could ever attempt to count the stars. Do you know why that is?"

"Because there are so many?" Ken said, raising his eyebrows in the stupidity of the question.

"No. Because once you are almost done, the sun rises and you must start again the next night. And by then, you can see more or less."

Ken sighed. "I guess that's true." Amen just nodded. "I, uh, have the report. Mikolian ships are in positions. They're goin-"

"Where in the sky do you think it is?"

"I'm sorry?"

Amen turned around finally, his brown eyes dark from his large pupil. "Deep Space Nine? You can see the Bajoran Sun from here… just over there. Do you see?"

/-/-/-/

"Seems like a nice night," the Ensign commented, leaning back in his chair.

Riker smirked. "Never say such things… you'll jinx it." The Lieutenant at the Helm gave a short laugh, leaning back as he looked out the viewscreen. It was a perfect image of Bajor, DS9 in the corner.

"I still do not understand the value Humans place in… 'jinx'ing things."

Another small chuckle ran over the bridge at the android's confusion, but he didn't mind. Without his emotion chip activated, nothing really bothered him. Heck, even with it on, not much did.

Will smiled. "It… never mind, Data. Never mind."

"Hmm," he responded simply, turning away.

The Lieutenant leaned forward as his scans showed something. Twisting around, "Sir, I'm reading an anomaly on our starboard side."

"See, Ensign, what a way to destroy a nice, peaceful shift."

"Sorry, sir," he joked back, glancing to the Lieutenant.

"What is it?"

The man shrugged. "It's… I'm not sure." He glanced up, finding that Commander Data was standing above him. Stepping out of the seat, the android took his place.

"They appear to be the signatures given out by Mikolian ships, Captain."

"Mikolians?"

"Yes, Captain."

Riker stood slowly, sighing as he looked down at the floor. Taking a breath, his squared his shoulders and looked over at Worf. "Get me Captain Sisko."

/-/-/-/

"What is it, Major?"

"Some kind of unknown anomaly off our port side. And Captain Riker is hailing."

Sisko nodded, stepping off the last stair. "On screen. Captain."

"_Captain Sisko,"_ he responded with a curt nod._ "Are you reading an-"_

"An anomaly, yes. Do you know what it is?"

"_Yes, Mikolian ships."_

The black Captain nodded, turning to Kira for just a moment. "They're in league with President Amen?"

"_Yes-"_

"_Captain, Mikolian ships are dropping out of warp."_

"How many?"

Kira looked over at her Captain as he asked the question, already knowing the answer to his question. "I'm reading twenty."

Sisko looked back to Riker, the Captains' eyes catching in a moment of controlled panic. _"Shields up, red alert," _the Captain said nearly immediately to his tactical officer. Turning back to Sisko, he said, _"Their under sides are most vulnerable."_

Sisko nodded. "I'll remember. But let's give them a chance to-" His words were cut as the station shook from the sudden onslaught. "Shields. Prepare weapons. Just one chance, Captain."

Riker sighed, then nodded before cutting the link.

Sisko took a deep breath. "Major. I want to talk with them."

"Channel open, sir."

"This is Captain Sisko of Deep Space Nine. Stop your attack. We have done you no harm." The channel was silent; the noise buzzing through Ops as everyone was still. "Stop your at-"

Sisko was knocked to the floor at the second volley. "Well, there's our answer," the Irish man commented, Miles earning a look from Kira as she regained her footing.

"Major, Chief, you're on the _Defiant_. Go quickly."

"Aye, sir."

Sisko stood, straightening. "Lieutenant, launch torpedoes."

/-/-/-/

"Red alert! Shields up! Phasers on-line. Torpedo bays opened." Kira's voice rang over the bridge of the _Defiant_ as she marched out of the turbolift. The officers took only a moment to identify her before following the orders. "Helm, emergency undocking procedures."

"Aye, sir," the Bajoran complied, fingers speeding over the controls.

A soft shudder rocked the ship as they broke off of the station, flying into action. Kira settled into the Captain's chair, hands on the arms as she sat only half on.

"Tactical, target the lead ship. Helm, pattern Gamma-Three."

She leaned forward, her back arched in anticipation. Adrenaline pumped through her veins as she heard herself say, "Fire!"

/-/-/-/

"Pattern Omega Delta."

His footing shifted, feeling the onslaught of the Mikolian weapons even through the inertial dampeners. Walking behind the Helm, he looked out the viewscreen.

There were twenty Mikolian ships. And there were only seven of his. If one counted the limited support the station offered, it was two to five.

He sighed, looking back at tactical. "Launch a spread of torpedoes at the left ships."

"Aye, sir."

The Ensign at Helm maneuvered the ship to aid the Lieutenant, bringing the ship right over the three Mikolian ships. The viewscreen shifted to behind them, the bridge able to watch as one ship erupted in fire, a second swinging off course from the blow.

"Bring us underneath the third ship," Data said somewhere behind Riker. "Aim phasers."

"Fire." Red beams struck the underside of the ship, carving easily through.

Another hit sent Riker into the Ensign's chair. "Shields are at fifty percent!"

Riker nodded. "Pattern delta, Mr. Zane."

"Yes, sir."

/-/-/-/

"Let us out! Hello! Is anyone out there?! Can anyone hear me?!"

"Julian-"

His fists pounded on the door, cutting her off as he shouted again. "Help! We're in here!"

"Julian, no one can hear you. The station's in the middle of a battle-"

"Yes," he turned to look at her, Dax squatting against the wall. "That's why I have to be out there. There're wounded-"

"Julian, they'll find us when things calm down."

The doctor sighed, letting his knees collapse so that his back slipped down the door. "I can't believe we're stuck in a holosuite… in the middle of some attack… on tonight of all nights!"

Jadzia looked up at him. "Why? What makes tonight so special?"

Julian looked over at her, his face blank for a moment. Then he shrugged. "Nothing. Just… never mind."

"You've got my attention now."

He smiled. "Only now?"

/-/-/-/

The station shook with another volley of the Mikolian ships, making Sisko loose his footing as he tried to get to the other side of Ops. He braced himself with his hands as he tumbled into the Bajoran's chair.

"Fire on that ship!" He yelled to the Lieutenant as he turned to look at him. His eyes found the human, the man nodding to do so.

Sisko's eyes widen as he felt the station jolt, a large piece of the bulkhead jarring loose. His mouth opened to yell… to say something… but nothing came out. He stood helpless as it swung down, falling onto the Lieutenant.

Sisko closed his eyes just as it happened, opening them back up to find his tactical officer hanging over the console, eyes opened in shock at his death, his back split open from the bulkhead.

Ops shook hard again; Sisko barely felt himself shift his weight to keep balanced.

It took a moment before he was able to yell out to someone to redirect tactical to their station. A second order on his lips to fire at the approaching ships.

He forced himself to turn away, not wanting to see the dead officer any longer.

/-/-/-/

"Bring us about!"

The Helm struggled to comply, the young Ensign working to swing around the attacking ships. "I can't shake them!"

Kira stood slowly, approaching the Helm officer. "Bring us to the station. We're far more maneuverable than they are… I want to get as close as we can."

The Ensign looked up at her, grey eyes shocked. Slowly she looked back to the console, uttering, "Aye, sir."

Kira looked up out the viewscreen, watching at the Bajoran led them to the station, suddenly swinging through the pylons and network of the station's wings.

She smiled as she saw the Mikolian ships brake off. "Take us right up and under them."

A slight tug pulled at the Ensign's lips and she nodded. "Lieutenant, target both ships. Fire!"

Kira shielded her eyes as the bright fury filled the viewscreen. "Both targets are eliminated."

"Two down…"

/-/-/-/

"Shields are down to thirty percent," Riker heard somewhere behind him, knowing that it was his Klingon friend who had said it.

"I need more torpedoes, Mr. Worf."

"Aye, sir." Immediately, two red bursts shot out, hitting the Mikolian ship dead on.

Riker nodded absently. "Helm, can you get us under them?"

"I can try, sir."

The ship shook again, Riker putting out his hand to grab the chair. He watched on the viewscreen as _Enterprise_ grew nearer, turning to get under their belly.

But the Mikolian ship moved suddenly, ramming their haul into _Enterprise_. Riker was knocked to the ground; hearing and not hearing as the rest of his bridge crew followed suit.

Quickly in the darkness of his bridge, he allowed himself a moment to relax against the floor. Taking a mental check, he was sure he was fine, but it wasn't until Data called out for him that he realized he hadn't move.

"I'm fine," he groaned, rolling over and pushing himself up. "Status?"

"Decks nineteen through seven have collided with the Mikolian ship. Forceshields are holding."

Riker nodded and looked to Worf. "The Mikolian ship?"

"Is still lodged within those sections- Captain, we are being boarded. Sensors detect at least fifteen Mikolians."

"Get down there, Mr. Worf."

"Yes, sir," grunt the Klingon, giving a curt nod before strutting to the turbolift. Riker watched as he left, thinking shortly of the possibility that he had just sent another innocent soul to his death.

The ship shook slightly and he pivoted back around, once again absorbed in the battle around him.

/-/-/-/

Julian paced the length of the room. Jadzia just sat back, trying hard not to watch him as he paced in front of her.

But she found that, despite her attempts, her gaze eventually made its way back to him. And she watched him. She focused on his face, on the lines and textures of his delicate face.

She took in all that she could see. Her eyes glanced over his dark brown locks, following the creases in his skin to his dark eyes. They ran over his tan skin, finding their way to his jaw, moving seamlessly into his mouth, the corners twitching into a frown.

A small, content smile slid over her lips as she thought of her time with him. It had been perfect; she couldn't fathom her reasons for rejecting his advances years before.

And yet she could. Then he had seemed to be, and had been, a green, naïve young man looking for adventure and a bit of fun. He had been cocky and rather self-absorbed. But not any longer, not really. He had matured and grown and changed.

Then he was childish, but now…

"Why was tonight so important?"

Julian stopped immediately, turning around to find her looking at him. He sighed, dropping down next to her. His hand fiddled with something in his pocket as he stared off for a moment.

But finally he sighed, and with a deep breath, looked to her. "This was not how I had expected to say this… but I think… I think that things have been going well between us. And I know you had your reservation about me in the past… in retrospect, I do too-"

Jadzia smirked with him, nodding. But she dared not to say a thing, fearful that he wouldn't continue with what he was saying.

"What I'm trying to say…" he paused, pulling his hand from his pocket as he turned to face her. Julian looked into her deep blue eyes, taking a deep breath to say, "I love you… and I can't image a day in my life without you. Will you marry me?"

Her eyes drifted down to his hand, finding that he had opened a box to reveal the most gorgeous ring. But this was quickly forgotten as she found his eyes, letting a dazed smile grow over her lips.

She nodded her head, opening her mouth with the intent of saying something. But no words came to mind. And instead she leaned forward, capturing his lips.


	10. Year 4: 2375, continued again

_Author's Note: _Here's the next one. Enjoy!

/-/-/-/

With a grunt of effort, Worf pushed the large Mikolian into the wall. Looking at him, a satisfied grin grew over his lips at the site of his limp form as he slid to the ground.

The Klingon turned, glancing around to assess what was happening. It was the perfect chaos of battle. The mess of black Starfleet uniforms meshing with the grey of the Mikolians, weapons of both sides lighting the room with a display of colors, and the grunts and cries of war echoed through to break the harsh silence.

Worf struck out suddenly, hitting an advancing soldier in the nose before firing his phaser, aiming expertly at his enemy.

But for every soldier killed or unconscious, three more, it seemed, were there to take his place.

Worf let out a deep growl- a Klingon sound- and used his entire body to attack the coming soldiers.

/-/-/-/

Sisko watched out the screen, his eyes focused on the _Enterprise_ as he saw the ship crash into her hull. "Can we give her any assistance?"

The Bajoran looked at his console and shook his head. "They're out of our range… Sir! Two Mikolian vessels approaching."

"Target their engines."

"Aye, sir," another answered, two beams shooting out to hit the hard hulls of the ships. Nothing happened.

"Keep firing."

One shot hit the ship's engines, forcing it to break off its pursuit. But the other kept coming, suddenly turning to fly past the Ops center.

Sisko let out a startled breath. "Shoot them down!"

"We can't. They-"

Sisko was forced to the ground as a volley hit the station. "Sir, mass reports of casualties. The medics can't get to most… and Dr. Bashir is missing."

Sisko sighed. He rubbed his head as two officers helped him to his feet. "Damn."

/-/-/-/

"Shields are gone!"

"Phasers?"

The man shook his head. "Almost dead."

"How many photon torpedoes are left?"

"Eight, sir." Riker's eyes slipped closed, his lung releasing a deep sigh. "Captain, security reports that they can't keep the Mikolians detained much longer. They need reinforcements."

Riker turned away, pacing to the other side of the bridge. "Captain?"

He looked over at Data, his eyebrows a frown. His eyes were hard and his face set as he looked out the viewscreen. Two ships exploded before him… an Alliance starship dead in space, escape pods floating around her.

He looked back at his first officer. "The civilians? Are they all off?"

"Yes, sir. They have all evacuated the ship."

Riker nodded, drawing his lips to a straight line. Sucking in a deep breath, he expelled it and looked away. "How many?"

"Sir?"

"Ask security. How many?"

The tactical officer looked down, flustered by the lull in action. "Too many."

The Captain nodded again, eyes surveying all on the bridge around him. They were all looking at him, their duties forgotten for the moment. "Abandon ship."

His words were a whisper, barely gracing the ears of Data, the closest to him. "Computer," he said suddenly, no one moving. "Self-destruct. Captain William T. Riker, three-two-one-one-alpha-beta-five."

He looked to Data, the android nodding. "Computer, this is Commander Data, gamma-pi-beta-three-two-rho-four."

"_Self-destruct activated."_

Riker nodded slowly, his mind working slowly. "Computer, eight minute delay."

"_Attention,"_ the computer called out, _"Self-destruct activated. Eight minutes…"_

The Captain's eyes surveyed his bridge once again, his ears vaguely hearing the sounds of the computer's count down. All eyes stared at him for a moment before they all slowly got to their feet, moving to leave.

Riker moved slowly from the center of the bridge, his long strides taking him to the full lift. With only a foot inside, he turned and looked out at the bridge.

It was in ruins- conduits and bulkheads having been jarred loose and broken open. Steam rose form the charred walls, colored from the flashing of the blue emergency lights. And yet it was still his home and where nearly twelve years of memories had been made.

"Captain?"

Riker turned to look at Data, their fate suddenly hitting him hard. The door slide closed behind him, the lift traveling quickly down to their escape pod.

The group shuffled moved away, grouping off to enter the escape pods. Riker's movements were numb as he watched his crew evacuated.

Riker looked over at Data.

/-/-/-/

Kira turned back to look out the viewscreen. She smiled at the sight of the red dust of the Mikolian ship. A small cheer echoed throughout the bridge.

She sighed, turning to the tactical officer. "Target the next ship."

"Yes, sir."

She turned back, resting into her chair. Sitting on the edge of the seat, her back was arched, hands resting on the armrests. "Fire!"

Two beams of light struck the ships, doing little to halt its assault on the starship.

As Kira watched, her eyes were drawn away from their target, finding instead that they were focused on the _Enterprise_. Escape pods floated around her, rushing to reach a safe distance from both the battle and their mother ship.

The Bajoran's face paled as she pushed herself from the chair…

/-/-/-/

Riker laid his head against the transparent window. He peaked out, watching the scene before the four-person pod as they quickly sped away.

And there his ship was. Amongst the fiery action of the battle, it stood still against the night sky. For that moment, it seemed almost tranquil.

And then, as suddenly as the battle had begun, the once majestic ship erupted in a magnificent ball of flames, collapsing in on itself. A second explosion lit the area, making Riker shield his eyes. And when he looked back, nothing was left of his home.

/-/-/-/

"President?" Ken called out gently to Amen. He was still in the same spot he had left him in hours before. Still craning his neck, starring at the stars. "Uh… the reports, they're in."

A soft cough came from his throat to try and grasp Amen's attention, but he remained as he was. Unnerved, Ken continued, telling the President, "It didn't go so well for us. Uh… only nine ships survived… three of Riker's ships were destroyed…"

He sighed, glancing at the PADD in his hands. Looking back up at Amen, "If it means anything, rumors say that one of those ships may have been _Enterprise_ herself… if that makes a difference…"

With another nervous cough, Ken turned away, muttering, "I'll just leave this on your desk, then-"

"Do you believe in a God, Mr. Smith?"

Ken paused, looking back at his President. He shrugged, not that Amen could see. "I don't know. I guess… I guess, sort of."

Amen dipped his head, twisting his waist to look at the man. "One of those who pray just incase?" Ken let out a curt laugh and nodded.

Amen shook his head, turning his eyes back to the stars. "I did, once. As a child I prayed and went to church, worshiped God conservatively. But then," he said, turning brown eyes back to Ken, "then I grew up and I realized what God really is…" An insane smiled tugged at his lips, some manic look appearing in his eyes. "It's like a bedtime story. One told to children to keep them from misbehaving… to make them feel better when bad things happen. And that's all it ever has been."

Ken sighed, looking away. "Maybe."

Silence fell over the two, the soundless night growing still as both sets of eyes found the starry sky.

But the awkward, "Excuse me," of a young Lieutenant cut through the tense serenity that had formed around them. "Um, Ambassador Smith, there's a man in your office. He said he has a meeting with you."

Ken nodded at the officer. "Tell him I'll be right there."

"Yes, sir."

Amen waited until the Lieutenant was gone before turning to Ken. "Someone important?"

He shrugged, running a hand through his long blonde locks. "Ehn… a small business transaction is all."

"What are you buying?"

"Why can't I be selling?"

Amen sighed and gave him a smile. "Then what are you selling?"

"Nothing. If you'll excuse me." Ken walked quickly from the room, marching down the hall and turning into his office.

"Ambassador."

"Mr. Brockmann. Sorry to keep you waiting."

Brockmann just shook his head. "No, I am sure you had something very important going on."

"So… what have you got?"

/-/-/-/

/- _**A Week Later**_

"We lost two… other ships in that engagement. I'm sure all of the crews can be used on the new ships?"

"Yes, of course," Lwaxana responded, looking ahead rather than at Riker as they headed down the corridor.

"And what about my crew?"

She glanced at him, a hidden smile growing in her eyes. "Well, I don't think they would fit on the two newest ships… no, not at all."

"Well they can't stay here forever."

Lwaxana laughed out right at that. "Of course not. Don't be silly. But a crew like yours, and a Captain like you, can hardly serve onboard just _any_ starship."

"Lwaxana, I'm hardly picky."

"Nonsense! You rejected all sorts of ships, you are too picky."

Riker sighed. "I was waiting for the _Enterprise_."

"Of course you were. Which is exactly why you can't have any starship."

With a shake of the head, Riker took a deep breath to calm himself. "What are you talking about, Lwaxana."

"Well, William, you and your crew are just going to have to wait for the _Enterprise_ to be finished once again."

"Excuse me?"

"The _U.S.S. Enterprise, N.C.C. 1701-E_."

"E?"

"Yes. She'll be ready within the month. Until then, you'll just have to manage here."

Riker smile grew as his feet slowed. "You had another _Enterprise_ made?"

"Well," the Betazed shrugged, stopping and turning to look at him. "I actually had them name her that."

"Did she have a name before?"

Lwaxana just shrugged. "I didn't ask." Then she paused suddenly, glancing Riker over. "Trying for a new style?"

He looked down at himself, noting his jacketless uniform. Riker sighed and looked back at her. "I can't wear that uniform any more… I actually wanted to speak to you about that."

Lwaxana nodded, "Come in here." Riker's brow creased momentarily in confusion as she led him into her office. "I had expected something like this. Look over here."

Riker peaked over her shoulder, seeing that she was accessing something on her computer. She turned back to him, gesturing for him to look at it. "How about this as the Alliance's uniform?"

His eyes ran over the design. Red stripes just a few centimeters shorter around the shoulders, mocking their former uniforms. Only these stripes continued over the shoulders and down the arms.

Glancing over the rest, he noted that it was all black, as had the last been. But looking at the side view, he could see that red stripes ran from under the armpit and down the pant leg.

"It's reverting more back to the older uniforms, as you can see. It may change some, we're not sure. Of course, the color will be different for the different branches." She looked at him. "We were experimenting with the idea of adding more colors."

"For what?"

"Um, well… _green_ for scientists, blue for doctors, red for command, yellow for security… _orange_ for engineers-"

"Not orange."

"I was just making it up."

Riker looked back to her, his face more sober than she had seen in years. With a slight nod of the head, he said, "That sounds good. Thank-you."

/-/-/-/

/- _**A Few Weeks Later**_

With a deep sigh, Tanith turned off his computer, rubbing away the exhaustion from his eyes. It had been one long day, and it was hardly past dinnertime. Reports had been coming in nonstop, it seemed.

To the President, his so-called creation had been a great success. But Tanith knew better. It had been a success for what it was created for, but it was hardly great. No, it had been a horrible success.

Another sigh escaped him, this time it was more like a yawn than anything. He pushed himself form his chair- had he left it at any time that day? - and turned to leave his office.

"Augh!" His hand over his chest, Tanith breathed deeply, his other rubbing his eyes. "You startled me."

With a deep breath, he looked at the figure. "What do you want now?" Tanith's eyes trailed down to the object held out before him. Stepping forward, his whipped out his hand, snatching it and bringing it closer for inspection.

His eyes shot back up, widening as they caught the dark blue ones. "What are you doing with this?"

He shrugged, staying in the doorway to the office. "Your… assistant out there was bringing it to you. I offered to give it to you… about time to take it, isn't it?"

Tanith huffed, turning away. "And what do you care about that, Ambassador?"

"Nothing." Ken smirked.

"Is that all?"

Ken shrugged, saying, "I thought I'd apologize for yelling at you the other day."

Tanith looked at him. "And which 'other day' was that? You yell at me quite a lot."

Ken sighed. "Fine. Whatever. Don't accept my apology. I really don't care. I'm leaving now."

Tanith watched him leave. Then he sighed and looked down at the medicine in his hand.

/-/-/-/

/- _**Around the Same Time**_

"… From the stars they came… to the stars they return…"

Riker turned, looking out the viewscreen. The Bajoran sun was thousands of kilometers away, burning steadily for all those who cared to see.

His voice was hoarse as he spoke, cracking slightly as he announced the names of his fallen officers. Bajoran and Starfleet alike were sent into the star, each launched and moving at a steady pace towards their resting-place.

He took a deep breath. There had been too many all together to count. He alone had lost so many men. The lists seemed to drag on…

"…Ensign Russell Baker, Captain Bene Amac, Lieutenant Junior Grade Sylvia Bodin, Lieutenant Chet Douglass, Lieutenant Commander Parker Hopkins, Ensign Brian Knowles, Lieutenant Rho Larus…

"Sergeant Bren Lyda, Lieutenant Tearc Lyna, Ensign John Matthews, Ensign Shawn McDougal, Ensign Roger McKinley, Captain Lyn Pana, Lieutenant Commander Anthony Peters, Lieutenant Gra Sol, Ensign Derek Walcott…

"… and Lieutenant Commander Worf…"

Finally he paused, watching from the bridge of the _Defiant_ as they all passed before them. His chest was heavy with the sight of the dozens of capsules- the dozens of names, the dozens dead.

He watched… watching the sun engulf the many dead in its searing blaze…

He watched as a friend and colleague pass into his afterlife.

/-/-/-/

/- _**Around the Same Time**_

Traffic loomed overhead as the sun set slowly over the horizon. Noise grew steadily as dinner crowds and partygoers appeared.

But Ken ignored them all, sighing as he leaned back in his chair. People passed him by as he sat at his table, nursing his drink.

He starred down into the blue liquid, watching the ripples he formed when he swirled the cup. He took a slow, deep breath, letting it out just as slowly. Then he looked away, swallowing as his dull eyes took in nothing.

"Ken."

He looked back at his drink, showing no reaction to his name. He made a face as he downed the last of his glass. "President."

"May I?"

Ken shrugged and Amen seated himself across from the other man. The Ambassador raised his glass, the waiter coming to refill it. He asked quickly what Amen wanted but the President shooed him away.

"Something you need? I'm on my break."

"Yes, I know. I just wanted to see if you'd heard… about Dr. Tanith."

"Tanith? What about him?"

"Heart attack. He died an hour ago."

Ken shrugged, nodding. "Shame."

"You don't sound like you care?"

Ken snorted, surprising Amen with the unexpected sound. "Did you think I would? The guy was a bastard."

"Then why are you here getting wasted?"

"Wasted?" He laughed shortly. "Whatever-"

"Look, I'm leaving. I just wanted to tell you."

His voice slurred as he said, "You think I killed him."

Amen paused, turning back to look at Ken. The man's dark eyes were starring back at him. "Did you?" Ken said nothing, tossing back his head and downing his drink. "That's what I thought."

/-/-/-/

/- _**October, A Month Later**_

"Personal Log. Stardate, 37506.06."

Will sighed and rubbed his neck. "Deanna is three weeks overdue. Dr. Crusher is planning to induce labor tomorrow… and Deanna's not too happy about it but at least I'll be here with her this time.

"It's kind of ironic… her last pregnancy was abnormally short and this… this one's too long."

Will sighed, looking down at the PADD as it recorded his words. He saw it done and stood, looking around the room. He remembered the room from when he was a young Lieutenant infatuated by with his first real love.

Things had changed, he noticed immediately. Deanna had once covered her walls with Betazoid silks- those were now replaced. Other little things had changed. The furniture had been moved. His mother's box had been placed on her nightstand and his trombone was now up against the far wall.

Things had changed so much since then…

"It's been a while since Liz's birth… I sometimes worry that I won't remember how to take care of a baby." He stopped again, thinking briefly of how little he would see the child.

"Since the _Enterprise_… was destroyed, I know that I'll be here for a while… I should be able to stay for a month or so…" He paused again, groaning as he rubbed his hand. "The refit should be done by then."

/-/-/-/

"So," Will let out, looking around himself in the Betazoid medlab. It was about the same as _Enterprise_'s Sickbay, just larger and whiter. "How… does this work?"

Crusher looked at him with a smirk. "It's a lot easier than last time."

"That's a relief," Deanna joked as she was settled into the biobed, a gown replacing her normal clothing.

Crusher smiled, glancing at Will. A pain of guilt dulled his smile, making him remember that he didn't know what it had been like last time. That was why he had been so adamant, and unwavering, on his decision to be there that day.

Crusher let out a breath and looked at the two, Will now by his wife's side. "It's a simple procedure. Once the womb has been properly prepared, it's a simple matter of transporting your son into the baby warmer over there."

Will let his curiosity turn his neck to see the crib-like bed laid out for their son. "That's it?"

"That's it. No labor, no pain… it's a lot easier."

"Why can't we do it this way every time?"

Crusher smiled. "It's just… not natural. Okay… the hypospray I gave you earlier was to loosen the placenta off of the uterus wall. That will let us transport it out right after."

Deanna nodded, letting out a breath. "Good. Let's get started."

"Okay."

Will sighed, standing aside to allow the nurse to assist Crusher. He walked around the biobed, standing at the head, instead. Running a hand over her forehead, he brushed aside a lock of hair, seeing her smile up at him.

Shifting his eyes to the doctors, he watched them work before turning his eyes back to Deanna.

It took less than ten minutes and Crusher was already rolling over the portable transporter, bringing it over her stomach.

"Just one second."

Will's eyes moved away from his wife, watching instead the crib Crusher had showed him earlier. His heart sped in his chest as he waited, his anticipation rising…

A dull blue light appeared, disappearing a moment later, leaving behind it the form of a small baby.

A tear fell from her eyes as Crusher handed Deanna her son, laying his blanket-clad body into her arms. Her face was lit with a bright smile as she looked down at the babe in her arms, cries coming from his tiny mouth, his one arm wiggling out of the blanket. Her eyes glanced up at Will, the man smiling down at her and his newborn child.

"He's gorgeous," Deanna heard Beverly say faintly.

Will nodded numbly. "That he is."

"What's his name?" The nurse asked, hesitant to intrude upon the moment.

Will looked over at her, then smiled at Beverly. "Chamberlain Jean-Luc Riker."

The doctor let out a rueful laugh, sniffling slightly before her smile returned. "A wonderful name, Will."

/-/-/-/

/- _**Around the Same Time**_

"Hey, that's mine," the Ensign said with a laugh, batting her friend's hand away from her mug. "Go get your own." His lips fell into a pout, the table laughing as she shook her head and sipped at the warm liquid.

Leaning back, she looked around. The _Defiant's _mess hall was still quite in dismay, but it wasn't too bad. The rest of the ship had been hit much worse, and she had to admit that it was coming back together quiet well. The station and such places were considered more vital; thus they were fixed weeks ago.

But things were returning to normal. Things on the station were easily sliding back into the way they were before.

"Hey, anyone heard how the wedding's going?"

The Ensign shrugged, "Who knows how Trill weddings work."

"I heard they last for days. Sucks for Dr. Bashir," they laughed.

Yes, things were coming back to normal… soon…

Even things on the new _Enterprise _were coming together. Rooms were being finished and the crew was slowly moving in. Life was being brought to the new halls as workers and crew buzzed with activity.

Riker stood over his bridge, nodding with satisfaction at the new design. She wasn't Picard's _Enterprise_, not the one he had fallen in love with. But this was his _Enterprise_. _His_. And, Riker thought, he could grow to love it like the old one.

Even the uniforms weren't so bad. Albeit, he felt as if he'd never grow accustom to them. Even after nearly two weeks, he still had trouble identifying officers, especially their branches. And Geordie had not been happy with his new color: green. The scientist, however, were dealing well with purple.

It was far easier to slip into this new uniform. Far easier to look at it and proudly display the new symbol of the Alliance.

He sighed, his eyes shifting to the viewscreen. Lovely Betazed. They would have to leave soon… again. This time, though, he'd have to leave three behind…

His mind shifted to Deanna and his son… Chamberlain…

It hurt to think about leaving him. Leaving them all alone again. True, they would have each other. It seemed it was him that he was leaving alone. Another sigh escaped him and he turned away.

What about Earth? What would their next move be now?

Riker's eyes paused, lingering on his new chair. But he couldn't. He couldn't bring himself to sit. His mind was just too clouded with thoughts of what Amen was planning… what he was doing.

Somewhere on Earth, Amen was walking up besides Ken, smiling at something he saw. "So… this is one of our test subjects?"

Ken looked up at him carefully. The man nodded slowly. "Yeah. One of 'em."

"Well," Amen said slowly, his smirk growing as he turned to look at Ken, "let's see what he's got to offer."

Ken just looked over at him. Amen smiled and slapped him on the back, then turned. Ken just watched as he walked away, his eyes turning slowly and found the young Lieutenant Commander behind the forceshield.

/-/-

_Author's Note:_ Well, I hope you enjoyed these two. Review and tell me what you think. Year 5 will be on its way before long.


	11. Year 5: 2376

_Author's Note:_ Oh wow, the past week has really creaped up on me. I had wanted to post this back on Monday, but tests, school, and life kind of got in the way. So sorry for the long wait but here's Chapter 1 of Year 5. How you enjoy!

**Year Five: 2376**

/-/-/-/

/-_**January **_

Chang shook his leg, kicking the targ away from him. "Get down! Grinok, keep your targ controlled!"

"Come 'ere, Grol!" The targ scurried away, running under the table to its master. With its front paws on Grinok's leg, it panted, tongue hanging out as it begged for food. Dropping the worming gagh in its mouth, Grinok looked up at Chang. "What? Afraid of a little targ?"

"You dare mock me?"

Grinok huffed. "A compliment mocks you- I cannot help but do so when I talk to you." Chang let out a growl, pounding his fists on the table when he stood.

Many of the others stood around, laughing. Chang was by far the most unliked soldier onboard the _Craige_. And though none choose to taunt him like Grinok, they did not mind being amused at his expense.

"You insolent creature!"

Grinok laughed at the meaningless threat. With a sharp response on his tongue, he opened his mouth to speak. But his words were interrupted by the echoing sound of an alarm. All were baffled only a moment before they quickly sobered and rushed to their stations.

/-/-/-/

/-_**Around the Same Time**_

"Your fool-proof plan cost me eleven ships! Those were some of my best men!"

"Well obviously they weren't as good as you say. Where's all this… super great stuff you've promised?" Amen said, turning the argument back around on Jaron, something he had quite the cunning for. "Your ships are supposed to be advanced!"

"My ships are advanced- but they have not changed for a long time. Your Federation did not design their ships around ours as this quadrant once did."

"And that's my fault?"

Jaron huffed. How Amen did not get tired from his endless paranoia and suspicion, he did not know. Nor did he know how every sentence uttered around him was turned into either a compliment or insult about him.

Turning away, the Mikolian was assaulted by large leafs; his hands pushed them away in annoyance. "Why do you insist on walking through a maze of exasperating shrubbery?"

"It's called a garden," Amen called back at him. "And I like it. I think it's beautiful."

"These _things_," Jaron said, sneezing as his nose picked up the scent of one of the plants, "are reeking, ugly, useless things."

Amen spared only a glance at the Commander before walking on. "Your ship has been dispatched, I hope?"

Jaron let out a muffled groan, his military training hiding his displeasure of the President from the Human as he turned to look at him. "Yes. They should arrive at their target in a matter of hours."

"Good. The distress signal should alert Riker's new ship- what'd they call it?"

"_Enterprise_, Mr. President."

"Really? How boring… Anyway, I'll have quite the surprise for that man." Jaron's brow rose, for he had not heard of this 'surprise'. But Amen never elaborated before moving on, his next question as random as many in the past had been. "I heard that you requested to see the city?"

Jaron looked over at him, taking a few steps towards the President, rubbing the moisture from his eye as he went. "Yes, what about it?"

"I have to deny the request."

"Why?"

Amen shrugged, giving no answer before saying, "Tea time, I believe." And then he was off, leaving Jaron standing there, rubbing his irritated eyes.

/-/-/-/

/-_**A Week Later**_

"What the hell is that thing?" An Ensign glanced over at him, but the Commander paid no attention to the young man as his eyes shifted to the main screen.

"Yellow alert," his deep voice called, yellow lights replacing the normal just as Commander Carson McCullers had ordered. He stood, straightening his Alliance uniform as he did- it still didn't quite fit right. "Ensign, get a hold of the Captain."

"He's at the Lounge, Commander."

"Damn," McCullers sighed. He knew that meant the Captain was unattainable for the time. He turned, biting his lip in thought. "Xavier."

"What's all the fuss about?"

"Unidentified ship. It'll be here in six minutes."

The dark-haired scientist looked from the man to the view screen, and then back at the Commander. "Why didn't we pick it up sooner?"

"We don't know. Can you run and get the Captain?"

"Is he in the Lounge again?"

"Yeah. Hurry."

"No problem, Carson." The Commander gave a disapproving stare, but Xavier never noticed as he hurried out the door.

The Lounge was a little over a quarter of a kilometer away from the Command Center. And, as a private rule, no communications had ever been installed inside. No combadges were allowed either. And as much fun as that freedom could be, it still wasn't wholly understood why the rule was still around.

Xavier ran as fast as he could to the Lounge. But he was hardly half way there when a sudden sound pierced his ears, one that threatened to mask all sounds around him. He pivoted slowly to find the source, eyes widening with surprise at what he saw. A red tail ran behind it as the stray photon torpedo sped through the darkening sky.

He gasped, watching as it hit the Command Center. His mind screamed even in its dead haze to run and his legs responded easily to the command, pulling his body away without his stunned mind knowing.

He could feel burning on his back and could hear the sudden deep, alien rumble of fire exploding into life. He ran faster, maneuvering away, but a thick, dark smoke enveloped him.

He blinked away the soot and smoke and debris that was attacking his eyes. But still he could see nothing. His foot caught, forcing his hands and face to smash against the hard ground.

And finally he stopped. His eyes fell closed and Xavier tried hard to breath. The air around him was thick with ash and debris from the building. His breathes were quick and fast, hurried and afraid, as his dazed mind fought to purge his thoughts of death.

It seemed to him like years as he lay there, praying for life. His eyes closed against the dark, he could only feel what was raging around him…

/-/-/-/

/-_**Around the Same Time**_

"This is Outpost 23," the message hissed, static filling the background, covering moments of shouts and explosions. "We are… being attacked by an unknown vessel. Please respond."

Riker inclined his head suddenly, telling the officer to shut the screen off. He waited just a moment, then turned and caught the Lieutenant's eyes. The screen was still replaying the message.

The young Human started suddenly, turning the screen back to the empty void of space. Riker just shook his head. The Lieutenant was young and inexperienced… and not Worf. "How long will it take us to get there?"

"At maximum warp," Data began, Riker turning to look at him. His eyes seemed to glaze over for only a millisecond before he said, "Thirteen minutes."

Riker nodded. "Helm, maximum warp to Outpost 23."

"Aye, sir."

/-/-/-/

The ground shook under Xavier's feet as he ran. He wasn't sure where his feet were taking him. He wasn't sure of much of anything at that moment. But he ran…

An explosion somewhere forced him to the ground. His hands caught his fall. He spun onto his back, cradling his right wrist. Pain shot through his arm but he forced himself to get up.

He needed to get out of there. He needed to get out of there…

/-/-/-/

"Red alert! Shields up! Have phasers ready to fire the moment we drop out of warp, Lieutenant!" The young Human nodded shakily. Riker sparred him only a glance, turning back to the viewscreen. Just as he did that, he suddenly remembered that the man had never been in a tactical situation. "Damn."

The stars returned to their normal size and shape as the distortion effect of warp suddenly wore off. "Target their weapons, Mr-"Riker paused. He had almost said Mr. Worf. Almost. "Kain," he said quickly, hoping that all around him would think it an honest moment of forgetfulness.

"Aye, sir." Beams of red connected the _Enterprise_ and the Mikolian vessel for a mere moment. "No damage, sir."

Riker sighed, looking out at the dark ship. Their surprise was lost now… but why weren't they firing back?

"Fire a round of photon torpedoes."

/-/-/-/

The bridge shook, forcing Commander Azia into the rail. A muffled groan came from his throat before he gained his equilibrium.

"Keep firing on the outpost!"

"Commander! Two more Alliance ships have dropped from warp."

Azia groaned, breathing deeply as he thought. "Signal the others. And keep firing!"

He knew that the officer nodded stiffly, though he did not bother to watch. Instead his eyes were drawn back to the viewscreen. Three ships dropped out of impulse just behind his ship. Federation Starships, he knew.

/-/-/-/

Captain Ivinch pushed herself slowly to her feet, mouth slightly a gap when she saw the newest arrivals.

"Ma'am?" a young Betazoid called from behind her. She turned, finding his dark eyes. He was very adept at knowing her; some times she was appreciative of that.

"Fire…" she started, glancing back at the screen. "Fire at the Mikolian vessel. Do not engage the others."

"Yes, Captain."

Ivinch took a deep breath of air. She was no stranger to firing on one of her own vessels- she had been with Riker when they had all been captured. But that didn't mean her conscience was any clearer for that action.

She watched as the Starfleet ships approached them. There had been a day when that was a comforting sight…

Ivinch swallowed, waiting to see if one would make a move. "Rae, if they fire on us… I want you to return fire. Just remember that they've been told to think of us as the enemy."

Rae nodded. He knew her words were not for him really, but more her own comfort. If she needed to hear such a thing to calm her guilt, then he would listen and nod and do as told.

/-/-/-/

"Captain?"

Riker swallowed hard. Three ships were just there, seemingly hovering between _Enterprise_ and their target. His eyes moved to the dark ship, photon torpedoes the red darts attacking the moon below.

"Target the Mikolian ship, Lieutenant. Fire at will."

Riker could hear the man's sigh of relief; almost immediately he fired on the ship's weapons.

"One of the ships is hailing up."

Riker turned to Data. "On screen."

The image flickered from the four other ships to the image of a starship's bridge. An old Captain, his hair streaked white from age and stress, stepped forward. _"Fire upon the Mikolian ship and we will be forced to defend them."_

"Your… ally's ship has already fired on one of my outpost. They are killing my people and you don't want me to fire? Out of our way, Captain!"

Riker gestured for the comlink to be cut. "Keep firing, Lieutenant!"

/-/-/-/

"What's going on up there?"

"_We're a little busy up here, Doctor."_

"So am I, Will." Crusher groaned, rushing around the biobed to the newest patient. "I've got at least twenty here and I'm getting reports from all over the ship."

"_Captain!"_ she heard someone over the comms say.

"_Just fire, Lieutenant!"_

Crusher ignored their conversation, moving to look over at a Vulcan Commander. The Sickbay shook as she and another nurse tried to set him down on a biobed. His face was set hard and still, but she could see the pain in his jaw from the thick burns on his back.

The room shook, knocking her into the wall. Regaining her balance, "Captain, I'll get back to you." Crusher tapped her combadge, turning her attention back the Vulcan.

Green blood dripped down his back from the open cuts. A large green spot stained the upper left corner of his uniform, his shoulder burned. Plasma burn, it looked. Probably from an open conduit.

"Ensign, hand me…" her voice trailed off as the room stabilized, the lighting returning to normal as the alarms shut off. She paused, glancing at the ceiling. Then she looked back to her patient. "Well, that's better."

/-/-/-/

"Amen planned that."

"Planned… what?"

Riker sighed and looked at Ivinch. "He knew _Enterprise_ would respond to a distress call from Outpost 23. He wanted to see what I'd do."

"And you decided to attack?" Riker stopped suddenly, turning to see the two behind him- Captain Mansel of the _Missouri_ and another man. He just starred at the man for a moment, taking in his thick blonde hair, pale skin and blue eyes. Noticing immediately his age- perhaps thirty-five.

"Who are you?"

"Commander Carter Teal, acting Captain of the _Aytona_." Riker just shook his head, allowing his brows to knit together in uninterested confusion. "We defeated after our Captain was killed."

Riker nodded slowly, once again the action uninterested as he glanced over the dark haired man. Then, as briefly, he turned away. "I didn't think he was expecting us to actually attack. But I know he's lapping it up… what do you think, Commander?"

Teal looked up but Riker wasn't looking at him. "Maybe… sir, I don't know President Amen. I wasn't really informed of-"

"Did he order the attack?"

Again, Riker was looking back at Teal, but the Commander sighed and answered. "I don't know, sir. As I said, Captain Baronich didn't tell us-"

"You _were_ his first officer, were you not?"

Teal glanced up just soon enough to notice that Riker had glanced back at him. He nodded, "Yes. But if the President had ordered something, he-"

"So then you don't think Amen ordered it?"

Teal sighed and shrugged. Then he shook his head and thought quickly. "No," he said, suddenly, "I don't. But… maybe he did. Perhaps I am bias towards him… but then again, you are biased against him…" Teal's face froze when Riker turned, his eyes glaring at the man. "With all due respect, sir."

Riker's face didn't change, and Ivinch and Mansel just watched on, not commenting. But then Riker nodded, something tugging the corner of his lip. "Good answer, Commander."

His head bobbed with approval and then he turned away, continuing down the corridor. "Damage reports?"

/-/-/-/

"_Xavier! Oh my god! Are you all right?"_

_The man nodded mutely, his tired eyes catching hers._

She ran her hands under the hot water, rubbing them together. There had been so many casualties. So many had died… there was so much blood.

She rubbed harder, the water scolding her hands as it grew hotter. But she was numb, too numb to care.

"_Xavier," she called, trying to stop the man. He was just walking- walking where, she didn't know- with his one arm held limply across his chest. "Xavier, stop! I have to look at you."_

"_I'm fine."_

"_You're not fine."_

She kept rubbing her hands, her eyes moving to the bottom of the sink. It was red, red from the water.

"_Xavier, what's wrong?"_

"_Gwen… there… a stray photon torpedo… it just…" The man just kept shaking his head, mind replaying the moments in his head. _

"_Come sit down, Xavier. Come on."_

She rubbed harder, the blood now gone. But she kept scrubbing at them, as if expecting that her eyes were playing tricks and there was plenty more there.

She stared hard at her reflection in the mirror. Blood had been smeared over her face; some was in her hair. She rubbed at it slowly, flinching as she suddenly realized the temperature of the water.

"_Xavier, just sit down," she begged, pushing her friend over to the bed. _

"_I've never seen a photon torpedo like that. It just… was coming right at us… it hit the Command Center… and then… it was just gone…"_

Tear mixed with the now cold water. She looked up at herself, seeing the red puffiness around her eyes… the blood that had mixed with her blonde hair.

A hand ran through her hair absently, rubbing away some of the moisture on her face. Gwen closed her eyes, letting more tears spill over to run down her cheeks, running into her nose. Rubbing her nose, her eyes glanced down at the image on the table next to her.

She was there, surrounded by her friends. It had been a wonderful day. She was at a party; one of her friends had just gotten married. Carson was there with his arm wrapped around her shoulders and Xavier was standing just behind him. Those two had always been inseparable; she had never known brothers to be that close.

A fresh set of tears spilled over; her hand lashed out, forcing the PADD sprawling across the room. That had been the same night Carson had proposed.

/-/-/-/

/-_**At the Same Time**_

"This was the last transmission from the _Craige_."

Chancellor Gowron nodded. The whole of the Council turning to watch when Martok pushed in the data rod. Immediately the black screen fuzzed into black and the Klingon symbol was displayed before the screen fuzzed again, turning into the clouded version of a Bird of Prey bridge. Conduits were blown, sparks flew and smoke clouded the view of much of the bride.

"_These… ships came… nowhere! Unidentified… sensor…ough cloak… needed-"_

The screen cut and fuzzed back out, displaying the Klingon symbol before returning to a blank wall.

"They also managed to send visual images of these ship, but their sensor data was scrambled too severely to be salvaged," Martok announced to the room.

"Well let us see this ship." Instantly, the dark ship appeared before them.

"I have never seen such a design."

"Neither have I…" Gowron squinted up at the screen, standing slowly as he looked at it. "Run it through all databanks. I want to know who dares attack a ship of the Empire!"

"Yes, Chancellor."

"What do you intend on doing once we know what race this ship belongs to?"

Gowron did not spared a glance for Martok as his eyes were still focused on the ship. "Their deaths will not be in vain. We will go to war with these cowards!"

/-/-/-/

/-_**Two Weeks Later**_

The streets were dark as the night set in, triggering the streetlights on some streets, others just barely in the dim light. Noise came from the lighted clubs, people slowly flittering in and out of them. Few at a time staggered out, half drunk, moving on to another party.

He itched the blue spots on his chin and glanced over his shoulder. Jaron wasn't sure what he was looking for, nothing really he supposed. It was more a habit of suspicion than any real necessity.

With a breath, the Commander walked on, turning into the _'20's Club_. Light and nose even more intense than outside hit him. But he didn't let the dizzying distractions faze him. His focus remained on the object of his search, the reason why he had sunk out from the embassy.

Working his way through the dancers and drunks and others, Jaron looked over the heads and past the colored lights to find a small group cluttered around a single table.

"One of you Manick?"

A man, the one seemingly in the middle of the conversation, straightened. His light eyes sized Jaron up, pausing at his alien face. "Why do you want to know?"

Jaron smiled, his hard face looking awkward with such an expression. "You do not recognize me, do you young human?"

"Are you someone I should know?" He laughed, the rest merely gathering around. Jaron looked them over. He had not expected, or even hoped, for much. But he had envisioned them to be older, not this scraggily bunch of children he saw before him.

"No, Mr. Manick… but it may do you some good to know who I am."

Again he smirked, turning in his chair to look at the others. With the young man out of the shadows, his features were lit momentarily by the lights of the dancefloor, allowing Jaron to see his unnaturally blonde hair, which clashed with the dark tint of his skin.

The human looked back at him. "Who said I was Manick?"

"You did. Now… take this. If you change your mind, I'll be here."

Manick looked down at the table at the alien technology. He didn't touch it. Not out of paranoia but more for uncertainty. Looking back up, his mouth opened to speak, but the alien was gone.

"What the hell? Check him out."

/-/-/-/

/-_**A Week Later**_

"Captain's Log: Stardate: 37602.09.

"Intelligence reports show a rise in attacks near the Klingon boarder. They're near where most attacks on the Alliance have been. The Klingons, of course, won't admit to anything, they're not really talking to us. Not like they ever have. But-

"I can only assume that the attacks are the same Mikolian ships Amen has been ordering around. Why pester the Klingons on top of everything? I don't know. But I know Amen has a plan. I just haven't quite figured it all out just yet.

"Anyway, the Alliance Council have told me about a mysterious informant. He managed to send them a transmission through Federation jamming- or so he says. We're not sure who he is, just that he's got some sway on Earth. He even said something about a group- albeit small- of resistors. It might not seem like much, but maybe they could stir up just enough trouble to hinder something of Amen's plan.

"Computer, end recording," Riker called as he heard the chime ring. "Enter."

Data ducked his head in, moving just far enough for the door to close behind him. "We will arrive at Betazed within five minutes."

"Thank-you, Data. I'll be out in a second." The android nodded, but didn't turn to leave. "Something else?"

Riker could see the thought process behind his eyes. Finally Data looked up at him and shook his head. "Nothing important," and then he left.

/-/-/-/

/-_**Around the Same Time**_

"Mr. Manick," he turned quickly, shocked to find someone behind him. "When you said you wanted a meeting, I did not think you would be the one here."

The human smirked, but the dark shadows cast over his face left it invisible to the alien. "I like to do things on my own."

"A respectable trait in a leader."

Manick swallowed, his hands buried in his pockets as he looked around. Jaron noted that he was nervous; his movements and posture gave that away. But as Jaron glanced around, his green eyes finding nothing in the late night shadows, he was easily able to see that it was not he himself who frightened the young human. No, it was the threat every noise and sounded presented to his own being.

"I would assume you know who I am if you bothered arranging this meeting."

Manick nodded. "Yeah. You're a… Mikolian- I believe I pronounced that right?" Jaron nodded, a smirk of approval tugging his lip. Amen had assured him that their existence would remain as much a mystery as it could be.

"I also know," the blonde continued, "that you are Commander Jaron. You have high ties with the President and are in command of a large portion- if not all- of your world's fleet."

Jaron nodded slowly. "I do not control all of the fleet. A portion, yes, but not all. And I, Mr. Manick, have done my own research on you.

"You're a young Australian, just out of school. Your plans for medical school were denied and you run and operate the _'20's Club_ after your uncle died three months ago. Since then, you've organized your own little… shall was say 'organization' that consists of at least ten other young post-college students who have nothing better to do than say just how much they hate President Amen."

Manick's smirk dissipated with every word from Jaron's mouth, his nervous rocking returning. "Did I get any of that wrong?"

With a subtle cough, "No. What do you want? You sent here by the Prez to tell us all to be good little boys and girls and to just shut up or something?"

"No. 'The Prez' doesn't know I am here and I would prefer to keep it that way."

"Then what-?"

"I want you and your friends to… to spread the word about Amen."

Manick let out a course laugh. "What word? There-"

"You and your friends have already proven your resourcefulness. I am sure that you will be able to find plenty on your own. Good evening, Mr. Manick."

/-/-/-/

/-_**Around the Same Time**_

"So what did he say?"

Manick sighed as he dropped into the chair. The sound echoed throughout for there was no music or lights or people. It was early in the morning and his club had shut down for the time. It was only him and his trusted friends.

"Well… he says he wants us to spread any and all dirt we can find the guy." Manick's brow rose as he shrugged his shoulders. "He gave me this, Andy, you might wanna have a look."

Andy took the device, turning in his hands as he inspected the circular piece. "What is it?"

"Not a clue."

"Did he say anything else?" Manick looked over at Reggie, her brown hair flowing over her back as she turned her head to look over at him.

"Not much. Just that he knows who I am; he knows how to find out about me… but I don't think he knows any of you." Manick sighed. "Andy just check that thing out."

His dark eyes looked down at the mysterious device. Scratching the back of his head, his fingers avoided the spiked locks of blue hair. "Right." Standing, he walked away, his footsteps echoing as he walked through the empty building.

Manick's pale eyes watched for a short time before turning back to the others. "Well… be careful of this guy, okay? No one talk to him. Not until we know if we can trust him."

Reggie leaned back in her chair as the others got up and walked away. Placing her hand over Manick's, he paused half way from sitting up and looked down at her. "You shouldn't have gone and done that. That Commander could have easily have had an armada waiting for you."

He shook his head. "You worry too much, Reg." He sighed, stroking her cheek. Smirking at his old friend, "I'll be fine."

"Just don't be that rash again."

/-/-/-/

/-_**A Few Days Later**_

Deanna looked down at her daughter; the girl closing her eyes sleepily as the lights turned down. "'Night, baby girl."

With a sigh, Deanna turned away, letting the door slide closed behind her. She stood there a moment longer, her empathy sensing the child's slipping consciousness. Satisfied, Deanna walked away, tracing the newly familiar path of her childhood home.

"How is she?" Will asked as Deanna lowered herself on their bed.

Deanna just sighed, "She's fine."

"I wouldn't call nightmares every night for two weeks fine."

"Will, it's just a phase," his wife told him, resting her head on his shoulder.

"A phase? Deanna, she's been living on a starship for five years throughout a war. I don't blame her from having nightmares, but-"

"Will." _"Imzadi, trust me_." "I went through the same thing at her age. It's… it's how her young mind is able to process the emotions she can sense. She's beginning to be able to sense them in her sleep- the dreams are her mind's way of processing them and understanding them."

"You mean when you sense someone's fear, you see a big, ugly bed-monster?"

She laughed with him. "No… I did when I was younger. Now I see them… in other ways. She'll be fine; in a little while, she'll be able to control it more."

"A little while? How long, exactly, does that translate into? I don't think I can keep doing this _every _night," he whined, hugging her tighter.

"You can't?" She sighed, ignoring the words on her tongue. "Just go to bed, Will."

/-/-/-/

/-_**A Few Days Later**_

"Julian?" Jadzia called into the Infirmary.

"Jadzia?" He answered, coming around the corner. "What are you doing here? I thought we were going to go meet at Vic's tonight," Julian said with a slightly perplexed smile as he approached her.

"I know, actually I'm here for Dr. Bashir, not my husband," Dax remarked.

"Why? What's wrong?"

Jadzia nearly smiled at the concern that took over his features as he walked her over to the biobed. "It's nothing, just… my spots have been itching for the past few days."

"Why didn't you say something earlier?" She watched from the bed as he picked up his tricorder, taking out the cylinder from the object as he walked back over to her.

"It wasn't really that bad until today," she said, Julian swatting her hand away as she tried to scratch again.

"Stop that. Itching won't help," he scolded her as he went back to scanning the Trill. His eyebrows creased, and for a moment he seemed bewildered. Then his shock grew, showing on his face.

"What? What's wrong?" She asked, trying to look over the tricorder at the data.

"N-nothing. You-you're fine," Julian stuttered out, starring down at his tricorder.

"Julian." He looked up, a strange mix of fear and joy shinning in his eyes. "What is it?"

A smile grew as he finally was able to say, "You're… you're pregnant."

"What?" She responded, a smile of her own growing. "Pregnant?"

"Yes," he laughed, pulling her into his arms and spinning her around. "I'm going to be a father," he said once he was able to put her down. She only smiled, leaning forward to kiss him.

/-/-/-/

/-_**Around the Same Time**_

"Are you ok? You've been awfully quiet tonight," Jadzia commented, cuddling up next to Julian on the couch.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just… I think I'm still trying to digest the idea that you're pregnant. I mean… it's not like we were trying," he explained, planting a kiss on her forehead.

"True, it is a lot to take in."

"It's just… I'm a doctor; I know all the things that can go wrong. All the birth complications, birth defects, diseases… and it's not like a space station is even the best place to raise a child, much less during… well whatever this is," he rambled, only stopped by Jadzia's finger over his lips.

"Julian, it's going to be alright. Nothing will go wrong, I promise. I have the best doctor in the quadrant," Jadzia assured him with a smile. A small laugh escaped his lips, his thoughts still weighing heavily on him.

"You know, I remember when Audrid was pregnant with her first child. She was so nervous; worried about being a good mother and making sure everything was all right," she said laughing at the memory. "Just don't worry so much about it, and I promise it'll make a lot of things easier."

"I know, I just can't help but be worried about such things."

"Everything will be fine."

He nodded, letting the topic be dropped. Wrapping his arms tighter around her, a sudden thought dawned on him. "My god, what are we going to name it?" His only answer a playful swat on his arm and a content laugh.

/-/-/-/

/-_**A Few Days Later**_

"Captain Riker?"

"Ah, Commander Tette, just the man I was looking for."

"Sir?" he asked with some hesitation, falling in step with Riker as they made they're way down the corridor.

Riker looked over at him; he did not know very much about the man but he knew both Data and Deanna spoke highly of him. "Do you still know how to get a hold of you contact?"

Tette shrugged. "I don't see why not. Why?"

"I need him to find out anything he can about the _'20's Club_. Can he do that?"

"The club's on Earth, right?"

"Yes."

"I'll ask."

Riker nodded, patting the man's shoulder as they slowed, coming to the end of the hall. "Good. Do it as soon as you can."

"May I ask, sir," Tette called as Riker turned down the left corridor, "What exactly you want to know about it?"

Riker shrugged, "Honestly, I don't know. Just whatever he can find. Good day, Commander."

"Yeah. Good day, Captain."

/-/-/-/

/-_**Around the Same Time**_

Amen grinned down at the translucent paper in his hand. "Good news," he muttered under his breath, his eyes darting back and forth as he read the words. He gave a curt nod, thrusting the paper back into Ken's hand as he walked on.

"Good news, good news."

"The Klingons have declared war! I don't consider that a good thing."

"Trust me, Ken, this is a very good thing. Everything is going to plan."

"Whatever you say, Mr. President, but-"

"And, besides, they are not at war with us. They are at war with the Mikolians. We're not getting into it just yet."

"No?"

"No."

"Then what happens when the Klingons find out about our alliance with the Mikolians? Then they'll be after us!"

Amen smirked, looking back at Ken who was walking a step behind him. "How will they?"

"Oh, I don't know? The Alliance! Resistance factions within the Federation! You do know about them, right?"

"The Alliance? Of course I do."

"No. The resistance factions!"

"They aren't of concern to me."

"What about the Sklig Ntsar-"

Amen stopped suddenly, spinning around to face Ken. "They will be vanquished…" His voice trailed off, his words not as harsh when he said, "Do not worry so much, Ken. It's all under control. Come now, we have many things to do. And I need you to speak with the Federation Council."

/-/-/-/

/-_**A Few Days Later**_

Deanna glanced over at the doctor. Salizhan was busy working at her console once again; her mind completely focused on her work. But Deanna could sense that she was fast becoming frustrated.

"Any luck, Dr. Salizhan?"

The Vigolian glanced over at the Betazoid. "Just call me Sal. And no. Nothing."

Deanna nodded with a sigh. She looked back at Liam. He was a young patient, about the youngest, but there was something about him. She felt like she could almost sense something in the back of his mind, something none of the rest had.

Looking back over at the doctor, an old thought came forward. She was still not sure why Salizhan insisted that she worked in the containment area with the patients. She could go to an office where she could be more comfortable.

"Sal? Well don't you have a first name?"

She glanced over, her lips twitching as if to form a smile but not quite making one. "Of course I do… I just don't like it."

"No? Tell. What is it?"

"No!" She laughed, absently hitting a few buttons. "It's horrible…" The beeping of her console stole her attention away. "Uhg!"

Both Deanna and Liam looked over with shocked interest at Salizhan's groan. "What?"

Salizhan ignored Deanna. She ripped her mask off, Deanna wincing slightly as she felt the Vigolian's sting of pain. But quickly absolute horror and shock settled in.

"What? Are you insane?"

Salizhan shook her head. "Nothing! The computer still says they are all perfectly health!" Her arms whipped out, gesturing to the few dozen patients around them. Liam smiled dumbly, mimicking the gesture, flapping his arm repeatedly at nothing.

"And so you took your mask off?" Deanna said, her voice scornful. Both just ignored Liam.

"It's not airborne and they're not contagious. They aren't infected with anything any more. It's gone!"

"Hell of a way to test your theory." Deanna leaned away, Liam laughing somewhat when his hand continued waving. Deanna pulled it down, glancing at Salizhan in between her efforts.

Salizhan sighed and shook her head. She didn't really care any more.

/-/-/-

Hmm... a chapter packed full of surprises. Quite a bit of trouble in both the Klingon world and with the Mikolians. We're even started to see that Earth doesn't seemed to like Amen much either.

But, on a brighter note, loooks like things are going well on Deep Space Nine...


	12. Year 5: 2376, continued

_Author's Note: _Thought I'd give you the next chapter before I disappear for the weekend. Hope you enjoy!

/-/-/-/

/-_**March, A Few Days Later**_

Pulling her shirt over her head, the Trill hastily adjusted it. But her movements slowed when she looked up, catching her reflection in the mirror. She sighed, looking down at her half-exposed stomach.

Slowly, Jadzia ran her hand lower along her stomach, feeling the fidgety movements of Dax just beneath where the child would grow. She had spent hours in front of the mirror when she had first been joined. It was a thing to get used to, sharing your body with another being. And now she would share it with two others.

She sighed, pulling the material back down over her stomach. She would need new clothes before too long, once she started growing. She knew, though, that she wouldn't be growing anywhere near as large as Kira had. Trills gained little weight during pregnancy.

But she still had another month or so before she had to worry. For a moment she wondered if Julian knew it would only be another eighteen weeks.

With a moan, she rushed from the bathroom. She was running late, not that Kira would mind but a senior officer she needed to set an example.

Unceremoniously, she plopped down on the bed, about to grab a boot when she heard Julian open the door. "Hey, Jadzia," he started slowly, leaning against the doorframe. He looked in, seeing her sitting on the corner of the bed, quickly lacing her boots. "Can we talk?"

She shrugged. "I've gotta hurry. I'm running late."

"Oh," he sighed as he saw her stand, walking into the bathroom. "It can wait, then."

"No," she peaked out the door, "What is it?"

"Nothing. Um, it can wait. If you have to go." Julian shrugged and shook his head, turning out of the door.

A moment later, Jadzia was behind him, her hand on his shoulder. "Is something wrong, Julian?"

He caught her eyes, absorbed momentarily by their shear brightness. "No… just… wanted to talk about something… but," he gathered more steam, his earlier nerved and apprehension fading. "Never mind. It's not important."

Dax sighed, shaking her head. "No. What is it?"

"Nothing. Never mind." He paused and said, "What can talk at dinner."

Jadzia sighed. She gave him a peak on the lips, a smile, and then was walking out the door. "Okay, then. Bye."

"Bye."

/-/-/-/

/-_**Around the Same Time**_

Her nails itched relentlessly at the back of her hand. The itching had been driving her mad- it just wouldn't stop.

She cast her eyes out upon the opening of her latest "home". Grey-purple eyes found the balding doctor as he worked tirelessly at something. Then they found the stoic form of the zealous young Ensign. She sighed as she noticed the metallic rainbow of colors that clouded the two figures over. She had asked once- Humans, Trills, Betazoid, Vulcans… they couldn't see it.

Pulling her gaze away, she looked down at her hand. Red marks on her light skin surrounded the pale blue scales. They were bothering her yet again, agonizingly itchy. She had been told that it was one of the first signs. The thought hadn't bothered her, but now…

Now she took back every comment she had ever made to a fellow Vigolian about their itchy scales. It was truly no laughing matter. Not anymore, not once she'd experienced it.

"Hello in there."

Her eyes shot back up, finding not the balding man nor the zealous ensign but a friend. A familiar, smiling face. "Deanna, am I glad to see you!" She pushed herself off the bed, standing before the exit. She looked out, realizing quickly the futility of trying to see beyond the metallic static.

"So… you ready to get out of here?"

"Has it been a week already?" She watched Deanna nod, scratching again at the back of her hand. "So…"

"Ensign?"

Her eyes found again the young man as he walked over to the control. The metallic static disappeared before her eyes, bringing all back into view. "Thank-you."

"Your scales itch?"

"Oh. It's nothing. Just the chemicals they've been using to 'decontaminate' me."

"Oh. Come on, let's get out of here."

/-/-/-/

/-_**Around the Same Time**_

Lwaxana looked up at the Trill Lieutenant, not needing his hand to tap her shoulder to know that he was there. Nodding her thanks, she took the transparent sheet from him, paying him no mind as he walked briskly away.

She starred down at it, her eyes scanning over the symbols of her native languages. Her brow rose as she noted the date. It was old information, but important nonetheless.

Conversations overlapped throughout the room, the noise growing around her. But she ignored it, her face growing more concerned with every word.

"Quiet!" The noise around her ceased, all eyes turning to the head of the Council's table. Lwaxana stood with eyes still downcast on the printout of a transmission. She looked up at the silent room, looking around at her fellow representatives.

"The Klingons have officially declared war against the Mikolians. Earth has offered aid but no military assistance to the Mikolians." Her words echoed around them, shifting the silence from obedience to shock.

Pok was the first to brake the silence as he shifted in his chair, saying quietly, "A typical Klingon reaction to meager threats."

Pell looked over at her blue colleague, a brow raised. "The attacks on the Klingons were hardly meager," she responded, "but then, they have been worse to us. I still have a hard time believing that after everything they've done to us, that we have yet to declare war against the Federation ourselves."

"As we have no proof that the Mikolians have acted against our outposts on President Amen's orders, we have no justification to declare war against them. However, we have justification to retaliate against the Mikolians."

Many of the Council members muttered in agreement with the Vulcan, a low buzz filling the once silent room.

"That is very true," Lwaxana nodded, her mind being filled with the approving and disapproving thoughts of the others. "A vote is order, I assume." A second wave a muttering spread through the chambers before their answer was announced.

/-/-/-/

/-_**Around the Same Time**_

"What did you want to tell me?"

Julian looked up with his hand raised over his half-eaten dinner. With a sigh, he dropped his fork, slumping back in his chair some. He wasn't sure how to say this- how or if she'd understand. But he needed to say it. At least to her.

Glancing over his shoulder, Julian let out a silent sigh. He had tried to get her to eat at home- it wasn't something he wanted to share with the station. But then Quark's was loud and boisterous and filled with people. If any of them heard him, he'd almost say that they were talented enough to deserve to know.

"Jadzia, I… I… well, I've never told this to anyone, but you need to know-" He could hear it coming. The muffled footfalls behind them. And the instant his voice faltered, he could see it in her face.

"Dax, Julian. Mind if we join you?"

Julian didn't turn to see the Major; instead he tried to hide the grim look upon his face. Jadzia looked to him, pleading permission. With a shrug, he looked up at Odo and Kira, forcing a smile to his lips. "Please."

"I hope we didn't interrupt anything."

"No," he replied quickly, not letting Jadzia bring back the subject. It was over with, at least for the night. Any and all courage he had drummed up had already been beaten down twice that day. It would take time to build it back up again. If he ever did. "Not at 'tall."

/-/-/-/

/-_**A Week Later**_

Dr. Salizhan rushed through the hall, the red alarm echoed in her ears. Slamming her hand on the release, she only made it a few steps over the threshold before she was enveloped in the onslaught of casualties. Medics dressed in containment suits dragged person after person in around her. She sighed. They were all clearly infected by the bioweapon.

"You shouldn't be here. This area is sealed." One of them muttered through his helmet.

She shook her head. "No! I'm a doctor. Those suits aren't necessary- weren't you told? It's no longer contagious." She shook her head again, gesturing to all the medics, "Come this way!"

Minutes later, Deanna looked up to see Salizhan, medics, and nurses shuffling in, most in containment suits, as if protecting themselves from some horrible plague.

But her attention was quickly drawn back to her patient. Liam was wailing, his finger tapping his thumb faster and faster in his agitation. "Liam… Liam…" she stroked his head, but he batted her away, screaming louder.

"Salizhan! Shut that damn alarm off!"

And as soon as she spoke, the sound stopped and the lights returned to normal. Liam calmed some, or at least his moaning stopped. Instead, he began to rock in his corner, never ceasing to shake his middle finger as he tapped mindlessly.

Deanna sighed and ran a hand through his hair before she stood. Turning away, she watched the medics quickly shedding the majority of the suits, tossing them in the corner before returning to help.

"When did this happen?"

"Seven hours ago."

"Seven? That would put them on Outpost 45."

Salizhan sighed as she looked over the Betazoid's shoulder. "Yes…" her voice trailed off and Deanna turned to see what her grey-purple eyes had found. Two women ushered in a small crowd of children. A younger child, maybe four or five, was being held in the one woman's arms.

Children. Deana took them in, eyes finding each face. Their eyes were empty; this faces blank, just as their minds were.

/-/-/-/

/-_**Around the Same Time**_

"The, um, DNA scans are back on all of them." Deanna nodded absent-mindedly, hearing and not hearing what Salizhan said. "We've labeled all of them." Again her movements were numb as she nodded.

Salizhan followed her gaze, finding them focused on the small figures of three roaming children. One was a young Vulcan; he looked up at them with an empty, lop-sided grin. He knew they were there.

The doctor had always thought of Vulcans as hard, cold people. Emotions were just a natural part of life, and they chose to bury that. But despite that opinion, she had learned that they were strong, disciplined people. And to see one with such a look was heartbreaking. To see any one so young with such a look was heartbreaking.

"His name is T'Ez. His father died from exposure."

"His mother?" Deanna forced out, not looking away.

"We're looking for her- she wasn't on the outpost."

Deanna gave a slow nod. What would become of these children? It could take years before they found a cure- it could be never. These kids would grow never knowing who they are or doing things kids should do. How was that fair? And if they ever did recover? They would have lost years of their lives.

"How could they do this? To children, no less."

Salizhan shook her head. "I don't know. I can only hope that they didn't know about the children."

/-/-/-/

/-_**Around the Same Time**_

"Deanna! You're late."

"I'm sorry, Mother… there were more casualties. Didn't you hear?"

"No," Lwaxana whispered, finally taking in the weary look her daughter was wearing. "Uh… Will's home. He's in Liz's room, putting her to bed."

Deanna nodded slowly, walking away._ "Deanna,"_ she heard her mother's voice whisper in her mind. She paused, not looking back. _"Are you going to be all right?"_

Slowly she did turn, Lwaxana's dark eyes catching her sad ones. She said nothing, letting her look and feelings speak for themselves. "Good night, Mother."

Lwaxana nodded, swallowing back the thoughts surrounding her daughter. Nothing else was said as Deanna retreated upstairs, Lwaxana's eyes following her as she left.

"Will!"

"Shh…" He whispered, gesturing the Liz's door. "I just got her to sleep."

"Sorry."

Deanna's voice was strained, her eyes rimmed with tears as she looked away. Will's gaze stayed on her tired face, worried by her appearance. "What's wrong, Deanna?"

She shook her head slowly, turning away and walking into their room. "Deanna?" His voice was soft, a gentle caress to her tired ears. "What happened?"

Her hand reached up to rub her eye, brushing away the tears threatening to fall. "There… there were children today."

"What?"

Deanna sniffled, swallowing back tears as she turned to look at him. "Children were brought in today. Nine of them… with fifty-three others." She looked away, rubbing her cheek to hide the fallen tear. "One- one girl… she looks… just like Liz-"

"Shh… hey," Will whispered, wrapping his arms around her, letting Deanna rest her head against his chest.

"She's only nine… An-and there's a young Vulcan boy… it's so scary to see a Vulcan so… so…"

"Shh… shh…"

/-/-/-/

/-_**Two Weeks Later**_

"Commander," the Mikolian heard Amen drawl behind him. "I was just about to go look for you."

Jaron sighed, stopping his quickly pace to let the Human President catch up to him. "Really? Why, I dare ask?"

Amen laughed lightly, not realizing the sincerity of Jaron's words. "I just wanted to ask if you had heard from your ship? About the last drop?"

The Mikolian sighed and continued walking. "Yes, I have."

"Well?"

He glanced back, the skinny President a step behind. "They said it worked well but… the transportation mechanism is still not functioning as efficiently as it should."

"Really?" Amen sighed, his legs taking long strides to keep up with the Mikolian. "Well, I'll have to have some scientists look at it."

"Very good." Jaron turned to his right, hoping that Amen would leave him alone. But, instead, the man followed him, taking quick steps to stay in step. "Is there something else?"

"No, no…"

"Then will you excuse me?"

The Human looked up; walking slightly around Jaron as he realized the alien had stopped, gesturing subtly to the door beside them. "Oh, of course. Good day, Commander."

"Good day, Mr. President." He watched for just a moment as Amen nodded awkwardly standing there, then suddenly turning and walking away. Jaron shook his head, turning into the room.

/-/-/-/

/-_**Around the Same Time**_

"Jonathon James Bashir?" Jadzia questioned, as she lay on top of Julian on their couch. His hand rested on her bulged stomach; he was amazed how small she still was this close. "But that two Js in a row. If you're going to insist on this first name middle name thing, can't he at least have a Trill name as well?"

Julian smirked, "It really is an amusing story."

"Julian, it's not fair."

The Human sighed; he had really hoped that Jadzia would go with the name. He leaned forward, kissing her forehead. "I'm sorry, I know he's half Trill and should show off that heritage. If that's what you want…"

Dax watched him a moment, before relenting. "What's the funny story?"

"Well," he said with a smile. "I was playing poker- a Human card game- with my grandfather. Suffice to say, I lost… by a lot."

Dax chuckled, "I never did place you as a card player."

"Thanks a lot. Anyway, my grandfather made me promise to name my first son after him."

"And his name was Jonathon?"

"Yeah… he died a few years ago, I had hoped to still be able to honor that promise."  
Jadzia looked in his eyes a moment, sobered by the sorrow in his eyes.

Then a smile formed on her lips again. "Let me guess, James is some other really good poker player that you lost horrifically to."

Julian laughed along with her. "No, no. James is my mother's maiden name. It's been a tradition for my family- well actually my mum's. She has two older sisters and one younger and all of them named their first male child James, either the first or second name. But my mum didn't because my father didn't like the name."

"So you're keeping the tradition by naming our child James?"

"Yes, I'd like to. My mum once asked me to."

The Trill sighed, "Fine… fine. Jonathon James Bashir- it's a very nice name."

Julian smiled. "Are you sure. I mean… we could name him Girthwin." Dax giggled at his wrinkled nose, smacking his arm. "What? It's a very… Trill name."

She groaned, rolling her eyes at him. "No, we can give him two Earth names…" Then, leaning closer, she brought her lips to his ears. Her hot breathing tickled his skin, as she whispered, "As long as we give the next one a Trill name…"

/-/-/-/

/-_**April, a Week Later**_

"_Manick is a radical. He's a student of psychiatry and knows exactly how to persuade others to join him." _

"Uh… hi," Commander Tette said with raised brows as he watched his personal comscreen. "How are you? I'm good, thanks."

The Human shook his head on the screen, glancing over his shoulder. _"Hello. But, Tette-" _

"Wait. Who's Manick?"

"_I told you. He's the leader of the radical group Sklig Ntsar. So far they haven't done much of anything, but Amen seems rather nervous about them." _

Tette nodded. "What have they done, then?"

"_Spread the word. All over the world they've been producing a lot of anti-Amen propaganda. Telling people to join together and force him out. They're trying to sabotage his campaign to become President again- but the numbers are still in his favor." _

The Human shrugged, slouching back in his chair. _"So far they look non-violent, but I don't know about Manick. He could very easily be trying to build up support before…" _

"Right. Anything else?"

The Human actually laughed. _"I got you that- a hard fleet, might I add. Amen's been censoring everything the media does. They're hardly allowed to give weather reports!"_

"It's that bad?"

"_Worse. But if I can find anything else, I'll be in touch with you." _

"Hey, wait! Um… have you made any contact with them?"

The Human looked up with an odd expression. But it was quickly covered with a smirk. _"No, but are you suggesting an undercover assignment?" _

"Why not?"

The smirk faltered. _"I don't do undercover. I'll be in touch,"_ and the screen went blank.

/-/-/-/

/-_**A Week Later**_

Taking a step out the door, Will was met with warm sun on his cheeks. High-pitched giggles echoed in his ears, mixing with the soft chirping of some kind of bird.

Looking up at the sky, he smiled. The dark shades of purpled and red were a welcoming sight. It was going to be a hot day, he could tell. But a nice one.

His smiled was content as he walked the length of the dirt path. Liz was steps a head of him, running and skipping her way to the garden. He could see that Deanna was already there, sitting on the bench with Chamberlain on her lap.

"Hey you two. Took you long enough!" She teased. Will laughed and shook his head, sitting next to her.

"Hey, you." The boy giggled when Will's hand gently tickling his stomach.

"Come, Chambe! Come play!"

Will smiled over at Liz and her nickname for the boy. But it was a nice little name and easy for the girl to say. In turn, of course, Chamberlain had created the closest thing to her name he could force out.

"Ib-th. Ib-th!" He squealed, clapping his hands and wiggling in Deanna's grip.

Deanna let their son slide off her lap, holding him until he managed to steady himself. Deanna was quite impressed with his balance, seeing that he was just seven months. He took a few shaky steps, dropping instead to his knees and crawled over to his sister.

She kept an eye on him for a moment, but turned to look at Will after a moment. She trusted her senses to watch them.

"How are you enjoying your day back?"

"It's absolutely wonderful."

"That's good."

But then he sighed, his gaze still on the children. Liz had gotten a hold of one of the roses. Chamberlain smelled it, a smile growing on his lips. "When did he get so big?"

With a sighed, Deanna laid her head on his shoulder and wrapped an arm around his waist. "I don't know."

They stayed like that for a short while, watching their two children play. Liz was so good with her brother, even being six years older. That wouldn't last forever though.

"This is nice," Will whispered in her ear.

"Yes it is."

/-/-/-/

/-_**Around the Same Time**_

"Damn."

"What?"

The blonde Human sat down, turning his chair to look at the screen. His friend glanced over at him. "They gave us another assignment."

"But we're supposed to leave in a couple of hours."

The second scientist sighed, shaking his head. "Yeah. Not like they care."

The blonde pulled up the schematics on his computer, looking it over quickly. It was something the two of them had worked on earlier. "What's this thing for, anyway?"

The scientist shrugged. "Who knows? Who cares? Let's just get this thing finished. My kid's got a game tonight."

"Nationals, right?"

"Yeah. In France."

The blonde Lieutenant nodded. "They're up against Asia?"

"Uh-huh," he replied absent-mindedly. "If they win, they're off to Mars." He paused and looked up at the Lieutenant, a smirk on his face, "So keep your fingers crossed for him."

"No problem." He glanced back at the PADD in his hands. "Hey, you seein' this?"

/-/-/-/

/-_**A Few Days Later**_

"Excuse me. Hi. Are you Manick?"

The man smiled. "I've been getting that a lot lately." Looking back at the two men behind him, he waved his hand and they stepped away. "What can I do for you? Didn't like something?"

He glanced over his shoulder at the dancers and lights. "On the contrary. It's actually more of a fact of what can I do for you."

Manick just smiled. Then, leaning back, he folded his hands upon the table. "What can you do for me, fine sir?"

The Human smiled and mimicked Manick's posture. "Would you be interested in having an ally who can get into any computer you want?"

Manick cocked his head, holding the man's eye as he considered the words. Then he laughed. A sudden, amused laugh. "Why would I need that? I am a simple establishment here. I have no need for such a… such a…"

"Person," the Human supplied. Unfazed, he leaned forward. "I am no idiot. I know all about you. About the Sklig Ntsar. And I want in."

Manick's smile faded. "Well, I can't help you."

"No?"

"No. I don't know what the… Sklig Ntsar-"

"But you can say it correctly. That's impressive for someone who's never heard it before."

Manick shook his head, almost annoyed. "I know Trill. I'm familiar with the words. Not- I guess- the organization."

The Human nodded slowly. "Okay. If you say so. Don't know what you're giving up."

Manick just gave him a smile, standing with him. "I would believe that you know the way out?"

/-/-/-/

/-_**July, Three Months Later**_

"Captain's Log. Stardate: 37607.13.

"Finally some good news…

"Nurse Liann has just reported that Dr. Bashir and Commander Dax's son was born at 1932 hours. From what I heard over the comm, he seems to be a very healthy baby. He was sure yelling enough." Sisko laughed lightly, sighing and looked over at the window.

"I plan on visiting soon… I'll admit to some disappointment that I wasn't appointed godfather- Julian wanted Miles to be. Of course Dax promised to let me be the godfather to the next one." Another chuckle escaped him. "I wonder how Julian feels about having another.

"I do believe the final name ended up being Jonathon James Bashir. JJB… JJ, ironic almost…"

Sisko sighed. "Well… Computer, transfer to Personal log."

"_Processing… transfer complete."_

He nodded slowly, gazing out the starry window. "At least some good is still out there. Computer, end log."

/-/-/-/

/-_**Around the Same Time**_

"He's beautiful, Jadzia," Major Kira cooed as she looked down at the bundle in her arms. Swaying lightly, she watched him sleep.

"You're a natural," the Trill teased, still lounging on her biobed. Jadzia Dax smiled as she watched her friend.

"I spent so much time with Kirayoshi, I picked up a few things."

"So, what did you two decide to name him?" Miles asked, sitting on the chair Julian had abandoned only a few moments ago to tend to a patient.

"Jonathon James Bashir. After his grandfather and… um, his mother's family name," Jadzia told them, smiling at Kira.

"Hello, Jonathon," the Bajoran was saying to the little baby. "It's a rather long name, don't you think?"

"Well, you don't have to call him by his full name. You just shorten it, or give him a nickname," Miles explained, looking to Jadzia, about to ask her if they had thought of that.

"See, that's why Bajorans have short names. No need for these… nicknames or shortened forms. Just straight and to the point." Dax giggled, shaking her head as she took the child back into her arms.

"You could call him JJ."

"Jay-Jay? What kind of name is that?" Kira asked.

"It's a human nickname," the Chief defended. "You know, his two initials are J and J. So you could call him JJ."

"You mean like the two letter Js?"

"Yeah." Kira just shook her head and sighed. "Well, I think it's a good idea."

"What's a good idea, Miles?"

"He wants to nickname your son JJ," the Bajoran complained.

Julian smiled at Kira's obvious disagreement. "I think it's a brilliant name, Chief."

"Thank-you, Julian."

"Everyone's against me," she mumbled.

"So, anyway, can I ask a question?"

"If you want, Chief," Julian said, speaking as he walked closer to Jadzia, brushing his fingertips against the boy's forehead.

"If he's half Trill, where are all his spots?"

Dax laughed at this, as if it were the most absurd thing a person could say. "Yeah, I notice that too. I just wasn't going to mention anything."

Jadzia looked a Kira, and then back at the Chief. "Trill spots gradually grow darker until we're about four. They're there, you just can't see them."

"Kind of like a Dalmatian?"

/-/-/-/

/-_**Two Weeks Later **_

The Captain gave a short bow before he put his trombone down on its stand. Applause filled Ten Forward as he stepped down.

Will grinned at his friends, giving Geordie a pat on the back, sitting down beside him. "It's looking to be a rather big party just for you, Commander."

The table laughed with their friend. Beverly, sitting across from the engineer, smiled and said, "So how old are you now?"

Geordie just smirked and shook his head.

"You know we could just look in the records. It wouldn't be hard to find out."

Still the engineer refused to say a word.

"Or we could just ask Data." This caught Geordie's attention and he looked up to see the android coming towards them. "Hey, Data!" Beverly teased.

"Yes, doctor."

"Data, don't say anything." The android's brow creased in his own imitation of Human confusion.

"Data, how old is Geordie?"

"Forty-one."

"You traitor!" Geordie teased but Data looked momentarily hurt. It faded though when Will offered the man a seat.

"Captain," Data said, turning to the man, "Captain Jayton has-"

"Data, Data. None of that. No… outside things for now. It's a party." The android tilted his head but nodded and turned to his friend across the table.

"So any other plans tonight, Geordie?" Beverly smiled when Geordie's cheeks redden.

"Yeah, you and that… Ensign Powell seem to have really hit it off."

"Shut up," he breathed, rubbing his cheek as if to wipe the smile from his face.

Beverly smiled at herself. Then she looked away, taking a sip from her glass. The band had started to play again without Will. It was an old rock beat that she didn't know. "You sounded good up there, Will."

The Captain glanced at her. "Thanks."

"Are you ever going to teach Liz to play that thing?"

"Liz?" Will gave a small chuckle. "I tried but she's not a brass player. Heck, she doesn't have much patience for any instrument. Just likes to listen to music." He sighed, then said, "Maybe Chamberlain will be better at it."

"How is Chamberlain doing? I haven't…" Beverly trailed off, realizing that she hadn't seen the boy since his birth. "Heard much about him lately."

Will scratched the back of his neck, saying, "He's… big," before draining his glass. "Too big."

/-/-/-/

/-_**Around the Same Time**_

"Hey."

"How are you feeling?"

Dax sighed, absently rubbing her stomach as she approached Kira. "Thinner."

"Yes, that's true," she joked, knowing the feeling well. "Is Jonathon asleep?" Dax nodded and her eyes dropped some. "You looked tired."

Dax laughed softly, offering Kira a seat. "Exhausted. Luckily Julian's more than happy to get up… most of the time."

The Bajoran nodded, even though she had no true understanding of waking up in the middle of the night to feed an infant. She only knew what it was like to give birth to one.

"Is there something-?"

"Oh, I just wanted to see how you were and… well, it's often tradition for the- what Julian calls 'godmother'- to give this to the child." Kira handed over a small box, Jadzia accepting it without hesitation.

She glanced at the Bajoran before opening it. "I know he'd not Bajoran," she rambled on, the Trill's eyes glowing when she saw the present. "But it will be a large part of his life considering-"

"Kira, it's beautiful."

Kira blushed, bowing her head with the praise. "He doesn't have to wear it-"

"Kira," Dax quieted her, holding the earring gently in her hand. It was small, obviously made for a child, the chain just larger than JJ's ear. "It's very pretty. I'm sure JJ will love it. Thank-you very much Kira."

A short silence came over than, Dax taking the time to admire the silver chain, connecting the small jewel to the silver clip. Her finger brushed over the intricate design, recognizing it as Bajoran scripture.

"It means 'born in the month of Kin'."

"Kin?"

"The man who first taught us of the Profits millennia ago."

"A pretty headed three weeks, huh?"

Kira just chuckled with amusement, understanding Jadzia's humor after all their years as friends. "You can add more links, to make it larger as he grows- if he wears it."

Dax smiled. "He'll wear it- it's far too beautiful and important for him not to. Now… spill," the Trill said with an evil smirk, Kira reddening as she realized what her friend was about to say, "I want to know all the dirt about you and Odo."

/-/-/-/

/-_**A Few Days Later**_

"Uh, excus-"

"Come in, come in, Ken. The Commander and I were just talking about the war."

"You talk about it as if it were history," Jaron muttered from his place before the window. Amen looked over at him. Jaron always stood there, he noted, for it was an easy escape and the only spot in the room from which you could see everything.

"It is history," the President replied easily. "History in the making. History books will one day call this little war the prelude to everything that is to come."

"And what is to come, Mr. President? You have told us only what needs to be known and nothing more. I want to know what you are planning."

Amen's face was blank for just a moment. But then something tugged the corner of his lips, some spark of insanity growing in his eyes. "You will understand it all one day, Commander. But for now…" he turned away, "for now you do not need to know."

"Yes, I think I do."

Amen ignored this, saying his next words as easily as he had picked up his paintbrush. "Commander, I have a new job for you. Something I need your help with."

"What?"

"An attack plan." The Mikolian looked at him. There was a disgusted scowl growing on his face as he watched how easily all this came from his lips. "I want to attack a space station deep within Alliance space."

"You want to attack an Alliance space station?"

Amen grinned, looking over at Ken. "Not just any spacestation, but Deep Space Nine. I want that wormhole."

/-/- /-/

Dun, dun, dun... I wonder what's going to happen? What do you think? Come on, you've got the whole weekend to mull it over, why not send a review and give me a hint what you're thinking. :)

Hugs,

JD


	13. Year 5: 2376, continued again

_Author's Note:_ Just like to send a shout out to all those who have been faithfully reviewing: Zara08, tayababy, swasti, lilith kayden, a shadow in the dark, and nightwitch87. Thanks! Love ya all! I should start sending virtual stickers or something agian...

/-/-/-/

/-_**September, Two Months Later**_

Julian shifted JJ in his arms; his son was getting heavier by the minutes it seemed. The young Trill was looking everywhere, his eyes trying to find where every sound was coming from.

The doctor just laughed, turning into the Infirmary.

"Okay, sport, we just have to grab a few things, and then we're off to dinner. How does that sound?"

"Oh, Dr. Bashir, bringing your son to work?" One of the nurses teased.

Julian smiled at her. "Not to work. Just to grab some work."

"Now he's doing work while babysitting," another taunted, "Your wife would have a fit."

"Well she's not going to know, is she?"

The Bajoran smiled and the first offered to take the boy from Julian. He smiled. "Thank-you, Liann."

"It's no problem. Oh, his spots are coming in beautifully."

"Aren't they?" Julian called from his office. "I'll be out in just a second."

"Take your time, Julian."  
/-/-/-/

/-_**Around the Same Time**_

"How're we looking, Major?"

She turned to him, sighing as she said, "It's rather boring out there, tonight."

"I like boring, Major."

"If you say so, sir. Well I am off to dinner."

The Captain smirked, turning to catch her eye. "Another date with Odo?" A blush crept into her cheeks. "How's that working?"

"Very well, I think. Goodnight, Captain. Enjoy your boring night."

"I will. Good night."

"Sir? I'm detecting twenty ships on long-range sensors. Starfleet design. All moving at high warp."

Sisko looked away form the Human officer, his eyes finding Major Kira's back. She was poised halfway out of Ops, her head shaking as if in thought. "Fine, fine," she muttered to herself, walking back over to the Captain.

"ETA?"

"One hour, sir."

Sisko nodded slowly. "Federation?"

"I'm not sure."

"But why would your own ships be assembled like that?" Kira commented, turning to Sisko as she spoke.

"Hail any Alliance ship in the area."

"Most are an hour away."

"Hail them anyway. I want them here as soon as possible."  
/-/-/-/

"What's that about?" Julian wondered aloud as he stepped outside of his office.

"I don't know. It's probably nothing."

He looked over at Liann and nodded. Tapping his combadge, "Bashir to Sisko."

"Yes, doctor?"

"What's going on up there?"

There was a small hesitation before the Captain answered. "We have twenty Federation ships approaching at high warp… You should prepare the Infirmary for casualties."

Julian looked over at the two nurses. "When will they get here?"

"An hour. Sisko out."

"An hour?"

Julian nodded slowly. "Liann, call in all off-duty nurses. Put all the medics on stand-by. Kenna, prepare trauma supplies."

"Yes, doctor," they both said.

"Here," he put his hands out to Liann, "I'll take him. I don't want him here if anything happens. I should be back in a couple of minutes."  
/-/-/-/

"What is it, Lieutenant?"

The young Lieutenant looked up at his Captain. "We're picking up a distress call. It's Deep Space Nine."

Riker creased his brow, stepping farther onto the Bridge. "Continue."

"They say they've detected twenty Federation ships, sir. All headed towards them at maximum warp."

"Twenty? How long?"

"They'll reach the station in just under an hour."

Riker nodded slowly and looked up at the Lieutenant. "How far are we?"

"Maximum warp, sir?" Riker just nodded and the man looked down at his console. "We'd be there in fifty-seven minutes."

"Helm. Maximum warp to Deep Space Nine. Lieutenant, yellow alert."

Riker felt the floor beneath him shift and he knew before he looked that they were at warp. He sighed, starring out the viewscreen. An hour was a long time.

/-/-/-/

"Fire!"

"Shields are down!"

"Chief! Get them back," Dax ordered, pushing herself out of her seat.

The man shook his head. "They're dead, Dax. There's nothing left."

"Lead ship is firing."

"Target their weapons and fire-"

Dax's voice cut off as the lights returned to normal. She looked up at them and grunted in disgusted. "That was pitiful! What have you all been doing for the past few weeks? Sleeping?"

She sighed as she looked around at her Bridge crew. They were all exhausted, their shifts almost over. But she could see the determination on their faces- even though she knew it was the only thing hiding their fear from her.

"Okay," she sighed, settling back into her seat. "Reset battle sequence. We'll run it again in five minutes." Hearing the barely audible groans, she added, "Unless you want to start now?"

Relaxing back into her chair, she looked out the viewscreen. In barely a half and hour, twenty ships would be there. Twenty Federation ships- Starfleet. People she might know. How could they possibly fire on them?

It was in silent moments like these where she couldn't figure this war- this thing- out. How could anyone fire on their own?

And would she be able to order her crewmates to?

/-/-/-/

"You gave a call, Ben?"

Sisko smiled at the face of his old friend, Captain Greene. "Sure did. How far out are you?"

"Still about twenty minutes, Benny. But we'll be there. And we're bringing a few friends to the party. I hope you don't mind."

"Not at all. See you soon." The screen went blank, changing back to the white stars Sisko was used to. "How long do we have?"

"They're only fifteen minutes away."

His eyes were still on Kira as he thought. Fifteen minutes. The first of help would still be five minutes out. "Is the Defiant ready?"

"_At your word, Benjamin." _

He smiled upon hearing Dax's voice over the com. "Keep it that way, Old Man… Start- Never mind, just be prepared for them when they come."

"_Yes, sir."  
_/-/-/-/

"How long do we have?"

A Lieutenant turned to look at her and Dax eyed her face a moment. Lieutenant Kelly, she wanted to say. But she hadn't honestly seen the woman in a while, with everything between JJ and Earth and the Federation.

"Four minutes."

Dax took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. Biting her lip, she lowered herself into the Captain's chair. "Shields up. Prepare to charge phasers. Have photon torpedoes loaded. Don't fire first."

Her tactical officer nodded but she didn't see it. Her eyes were too focused on an invisible spot on the viewscreen. A spot her mind had decided at some point was where the ships would arrive.

"How far out are the others?"

Kelly looked down at her console. "The closest one is still seven minutes out."

"Then we'll be on our own for a couple." Dax nodded slowly. "Well here goes nothing, right?"

"Five ships dropping out of warp!"

"Don't fire, Ensign!" Dax yelled back. Looking at the viewscreen, her mind had thought right. There they were. But only five of them.

The _Defiant_ remained nose to nose with them. Five Starfleet ships. Two Galaxy Class, three Intrepid Class. What an uneven fight.

"They're all powering phasers."

"We're being hailed."

"We are? Or the station is?" She looked over at the Chief; he was looking at her.

"Both."

"On screen."

The ships faded away, being replaced by the face of Captain Sisko, Ops his backdrop. And, on the other side, was the clean-shaven, hard face of a young Captain- perhaps a man of forty-something.

He raised his chin and looked at her- and Sisko. _"One ship? That will hardly stop us. Surrender now, and lives will be spared."_

Dax glanced at Sisko's face. She knew instinctually that he would not accept. Knew that surrender was not an option for Captain Sisko. But she also knew that this could give them the few minutes they needed for reinforcements to arrive.

"Exactly what would you offer us for our surrender?" She heard her old friend ask.

The clean-shaven Captain laughed. _"You can't be serious? Your lives, of course. The lives of your crew."_

Sisko sighed. Dax took the brief moment to glance down at her arm console. Two more minutes…

/-/-/-/

Riker looked out the viewscreen with a sigh. Seven others were with them. Eight ships, plus the _Defiant_ and station defenses, still wasn't anything against twenty.

With a deep breath he stood. Just thirty seconds away. He hoped that the _Defiant_ and station were still there…

The ship shook subtly. They were dropping from warp. Only five ships seemed to hover before the _Defiant_. All seemed unharmed. But, suddenly upon their arrival, one of the ships- perhaps the lead ship- fired.

The red lights flashed over the bridge and alarms buzzed in his ear. Battle, that's what those things meant to him. He hated it.

"Power phasers. Fire on that lead ship!"

He felt, rather than saw, the phasers discharge. It was something he had unfortunately learned to pick up on.

As soon as the firing had begun, Riker felt his stomach drop. A sickening feeling made him paused. Fifteen- he would assume- other ships dropped from warp next to the others. Twenty ships.

He watched them carefully. He knew the pattern they were trying to use; it was an old style designed to surround and trap the enemy.

"Put me on with the… fleet," Riker shrugged, not really what he'd call their motley bunch, "Including the _Defiant_."

"You're on."

"This is Captain Riker. They're trying to surround us. Execute pattern Beta Sigma Three." His Helm officer looked up at him with confusion. The woman was young; it wasn't a wonder that she had never heard of it.

/-/-/-/

"Beta Sigma Three?"

Had the situation not been what it was, Dax would have smiled at both the memory and the Lieutenant's ignorance. She would have even enjoyed teaching the woman about it. But, as it was, she didn't have time. "Move into alignment with the three ships on our port."

The officer did so, taking in what the other ships were doing. Then Kelly smirked, realizing the oddity, but efficiency, of the maneuver.

"Break right! Fire on the second ship!"

Kelly jumped slightly at the command, her fingers hitting the console with lightening speed. The tactical officer, equally as shocked, hesitated slightly, but quickly recovered and targeted.

A red beam shot out, hitting the shield. "Fire again!" A second beam shot out again, followed by the phasers of three other ships.

/-/-/-/

A soft cheer erupted on the Bridge of the _Enterprise_. Riker smirked, allowing his head to nod slightly.

But as his eyes shifted from the fire and debris of the ship, he released a small sigh. They were celebrating the death of Starfleet officers.

He forced himself to look away, pausing on another ship. He wasn't sure which one it was. The ship twisted, turning and rocking around the other ships. His eyes roamed around the starry field.

A bright flashed hurt his eyes. "We just lost the _Kennedy_." Riker's eyes slid closed. That was Captain Kaikes' ship.

"Pattern Delta. Fire at will."

Riker grabbed the arm of his chair as the ship banked hard to the right, twisting around the debris. Photon torpedoes ripped through the other ship's shields, digging into the haul. His hand reached down again to balance him as the ship banked left.

He shut his eyes tight, protecting them from another flash of light. He sighed. For a moment he wondered if he knew anyone aboard that ship. Had he served with any of them? Perhaps some had been his friends in the Academy.

Swallowing down the pulling in his stomach, Riker turned away. He looked over at Data. The android had wisely deactivated his emotion chip. He had such a calm exterior; he was seemingly untouched by any of the events going on. Riker envied him in that moment.

/-/-/-/

Sisko reached a hand down, catching himself before he fell. Tremors ran through the station as torpedoes dig into her.

"Fire on them, Major."

"I'm trying, sir."

The Captain allowed himself to nod, even though he knew she wouldn't see it. He watched out the viewscreen at the small ship as it skillfully maneuvered through the pylons, its phasers punching holes throughout.

"Level Three, Section Two is decompressing."

"Forceshields!" The Bajoran said nothing as she worked. Sisko turned to the console before him. "Aim low, Major."

"Aye, sir."

Turning to the Bajoran beside him, Sisko heard him say, "Sir! Six other ships have just dropped out of Warp. Alliance, sir."

A curt nod summoned itself, the Captain looking away. Out the viewscreen, the six newcomers were easy to spot.

/-/-/-/

Miles smirked when he saw the five ships drop from warp. He had felt his stomach drop for just a second with the thought that more could have hidden somewhere, but the Vulcan Ensign's announcement erased that.

"Sir, there are two Federation ships attacking the station."

Dax nodded over at Nog, DS9's resident Frengi ensign. "Let's give them a hand."

Miles flinched as something sparked next to him, sparks flying over his head. He glanced over at the viewscreen to see their station.

But then he looked away quickly. The ship shook hard and he knew that they were being attacked. He only half listened to the orders Dax was yelling, listening for anything pertaining to him. He just focused on his work.

A soft cheer went around the bridge. Miles even allowed himself to smirk at their accomplishment. He knew that, for that moment, he could force away the thought of what exactly that was.

Miles found himself looking over at Dax. She was perched on her seat, watching the battle play out. She looked over at him; Jadzia always seemed to know when someone was looking at her. A shadow of emotion played in her eyes and the Irishman could tell she was as powerless as he was to feel guilt for their actions.

/-/-/-/

"Shields are at thirty-eight percent!"

Riker swore under his breath. "Helm, get us under them. Lieutenant, photon spread."

_Enterprise_ shook, bringing Riker to his knee. A console sparked behind him. He coughed, the sour taste of smoke in his mouth. The Captain pushed himself to his feet, only to be knocked down by a harder hit.

"Tactical! Report!"

He didn't hear the soft voice. It wasn't even just masked over the noises of the bridge. Riker turned. A bulkhead had fallen over the tactical station. He couldn't see the Lieutenant.

Riker forced his eyes away. He couldn't afford to process the event. "Ensign, transfer tactical to your station. Shields?"

"Down to thirty percent, sir."

He nodded at the woman. "Target their phasers and fire."

She said nothing, fumbling for just a moment to grow accustom to the configuration. She was no tactical officer. They needed to train all bridge members to work everything. He should say something to Data.

Data?

Riker turned, his eyes scanning the smoke filled area.

/-/-/-/

Julian looked up as he heard the door swing open. More wounded. It could only mean that.

He sighed, finishing with the man he was working on. A civilian; he got hit in the head.

Two men had stumbled in; one was supporting a woman. Blood ran down the side of her head and she seemed only half-conscious. The other man was limping. He collapsed on the ground not far from the door and held the side of his leg. Julian glanced at it- he was loosing a lot of blood.

"Set her over there," Julian said loudly over the noise.

Then he turned away, kneeling down beside the bleeding man. A Bajoran, he noted, part of the militia. He grunted as Julian pushed down on the man's hand; it needed more pressure.

"What happened?"

"We're getting hit pretty hard."

The room shook hard, Julian putting his hand down to catch himself. "I've noticed." He looked up at the man. He looked tired; it must have been an exhausting walk. "Where did you come from?"

"Level seven on the Habitat Ring… section eight."

Bashir looked sharply at the Bajoran. He swallowed, getting back to work. "How bad is it there?" came a whisper from the doctor.

With a shrug, "I don't know."

"Hold that there. I'll be back."

He got up quickly. Nurse Liann looked at him. "What's wrong?"

"That man," he nodded towards the injured Bajoran, "Came from where I brought JJ."

/-/-/-/

"Data?"

Riker coughed again. Talking had forced him to inhale the sour smoke. It was growing thicker. Too thick.

"Data?" He looked back at the Ensign. "Keep firing. Target shields and weapons."

"Aye, sir." She coughed after her few words. A tear rolled down her cheek; the smoke was bothering his eyes as well.

"Data?" He said again, walking back to the end of the bridge. The smoke was thicker there and he could hardly breath. He could just barely see two officers on the floor. They seemed unconscious. He didn't know if it was from injury or the smoke.

"I am here, Captain."

Riker looked down. Data was kneeling on the floor by the turbolift. A panel was exposed and leaking something. It was the source of the smoke. Riker coughed harder, his eyes tearing. What little he could see was blurring and spinning. He was going to collapse.

Pulling the collar of his shirt over his mouth, he gave a curt nod to the android. He needed to get to the front of the Bridge.

It wasn't any better. The Ensign was still focused, coughing harder. The Helms officer was worse, her head falling to her chest.

"Target… target their…" Riker forced in breath. The air was thick and painful. He couldn't breath in enough to speak. His knees were weak.

"I've closed the leak. I will attempt to flush out the smoke."

Riker nodded absently at Data's call, his eyes blinking and drooping closed.

/-/-/-/

"_One down, one to go."_

Sisko smirked at Dax's comment, watching through the viewscreen as he saw the _Defiant_ pass through the ship's debris. "Major, give them some help."

"Yes, sir."

The station's phasers ripped through the shields of the second Federation ship. The _Defiant_ was on it's tail, weaving through the pylons. Sisko sighed. He almost wished he was out there. There was only some much one could be from a spacestation. He had to wait for the… enemy to come to him.

Walking around the center station, Sisko's eyes remained focused on the mini-battle raging outside his station.

He wondered briefly who was piloting the _Defiant_. He smirked as he thought whoever it was could match Dax any day. She was a great pilot- he guessed it was Torias in her- but she was all about being fancy.

Sisko turned to Kira, ordering her to fire again, this time at the ship's belly. It was the same class as the _Defiant_ and he knew as well as he that that was one of its weak points.

His thoughts wandered then as he peered back out the viewscreen. Who was at tactical on the _Defiant_? Which member of his crew was the one that had to fire? What was he or she thinking? Were they Human?

He glanced back at Kira. How much did it bother her to be firing on a ship full of Humans and other Federation species? Was it as hard for her to fire as it was for him to give the order?

"_Need anything else down, Benjamin?"_

Sisko looked back at the viewscreen, surprised by Dax's smug voice. The _Defiant_ was once again flying through the debris of a ship. "Thanks for the help, Old Man."

"_Any time."_

/-/-/-/

Riker coughed; his throat was dry. He rubbed at his eyes. They were burning and watering and making it even more impossible to see the viewscreen.

Data had managed to vent most of the smoke, but some was still hanging over their heads. Riker coughed as he breathed in.

He stood behind the Ensign at Ops, holding her chair more for support than anything else. "Target their… power generator."

The woman looked up at him. He knew she wasn't a tactical officer, it wasn't her job to know where that might be on the Intrepid Class ship. But she looked back down at her console. He saw the look of determination on her face. It was wiped away the next moment by her coughing fit.

The Ensign rubbed her eye, forcing the moisture away. It seemed to be doing nothing for her dry eye and all it did do was blur the numbers. Drawing up a schematic, she pinpointed her target.

Riker let himself smirk. She might not be quick but she was resourceful.

"Target lock, sir." She coughed with her words. He was impressed she could still get them out.

"Photon spread," he choked on his words. The sour taste was still there and he could feel the smoke burning his lungs with every breath.

The red flashes hit dead on their targets and the three allowed themselves a smile. The ship was disabled. Riker sighed. They had done enough killing, it wouldn't be necessary.

"Helm… move us on."

She nodded. The Helm officer had been coughing the hardest, he wondered if she had much of a voice to say anything to him.

Riker glanced over his shoulder. The Engineer was too wary to stand and Riker had forced him to have a seat. He was again unconscious. The science officer had been dragged down to the First Officer's chair but he had never woken. They needed a medic but there was no way to get up. Turbolifts were off-line.

Data was still in the back, trying to flush the last of the smoke. Riker almost wished that he would stop and come to the front. Riker's legs felt like rubber and he needed to sit down. He needed to stop talking more.

"Sir!" The Helm officer's voice startled him. She hadn't talked in the past twenty minutes. "The… Federa…tion ships… moving off." The woman gasped for air between each word.

Riker nodded, squinting at the screen. She was right. They were backing off and some were jumping to warp. Riker tried to count as they left. Ten was all he got. Had they destroyed that many? Just the few of them.

He smiled. It was over. Coughs raked his body but he still smiled.

Now they just had to get the turbolifts working.

/-/-/-/

"Report from Captain Jayton. The boarder has been reestablished, sir."

Riker nodded, taking the PADD. "Good," he said, coughing into his fist. "Send word to the ships here that they're to report to their counterpart's former position as soon as their ship is repaired. It was about time we switched it up anyway."

"Yes, sir," the Ensign nodded and turned away.

Riker sighed, rubbing under his eye. Dr. Crusher had given him something for the smoke but his eyes were still red and puffy and his chest was still burning. The others were resting, but he still had work to do. "Data, you have the Bridge. I'll be in my Ready Room."

He stood before the android was able to say anything and marched straight to his door. He never heard what Data said to the tactical officer. It wasn't until he turned around his desk that he noticed Data had followed him into his office.

"Yes, Data?"

"I have discovered the Federation ships' trajectory."

"Good job," Riker nodded, sitting in his chair. "And?"

"They entered between one hundred thousand to a million kilometers from the Aytona's location."

Riker looked down, then back at Data. "That's Teal's ship."

"Yes, sir."  
/-/-/-/

"You seem eerily happy," Jaron commented, looking over at the Human.

Ken smirked wider as he turned. "Because today I don't have to deal with Amen. He's not here. Ha," he laughed, "I don't even have to tell him about Deep Space Nine. Not my problem."

Jaron's brow rose at that comment. He sounded almost insane. "I am glad you are so happy. Excuse me."

"Oh, wait. Wait, please," Ken said slowly. Jaron paused and twisted to see the man. "That's not all I'm happy about."

"No."

"No!"

"I wait with bated breath," the Mikolian said impassively, glancing away with a sigh.

Ken smiled. He took a single step closer to Jaron and the Mikolian looked at him. "Yes, you see, I found these pictures the other day. Quite interesting, I must say."

Jaron sighed. "Just say what was on them."

"Why would I do that?"

"Because you will go on for hours about something I know nothing about until eventually you tell me what is on them. So please just tell me what is on the pictures so I may leave."

"Oh, now," he mocked disappointment, "I thought you would have loved them. And I do think you know what they are about." Jaron just watched him disinterestedly.

Ken's smile widened. "You know about the… how do you say that damn Trill word?… of well, you know. Those Human rebels? Well, I have a couple good pictures of them from inside that Club of theirs. And you'd never guess who they're talking to."

"Whom?" Jaron deadpanned. His face was blank; his eyes void of emotion as Ken starred into them. But inside he was forcing down his fear, his dread. Every emotion he had been struggling with for a while was suddenly bursting to be seen.

"I think you know."

And that was all he said. Jaron watched his back as the Human walked away. He let out a shaky breath. He needed to get out of there.  
/-/-/-/

"Shh, Daddy's sleeping." Jadzia smiled down at the child, her eyes sad despite seeing her happy child. The babe quieted as she rocked him, eyes slipping closed.

Jadzia sighed, stepping up to her bed, laying the child beside its father. Bending over, she pushed her fallen locks behind her ear and kissed the infant. Smiling, she watched him shift and close his eyes, whining softly until comfortable.

Backing away, Jadzia leaned against the opened door, just watching her two men. A smile tugged at her lips as Julian turned over. He put an arm around the infant, pulling him up to his chest.

"Hey, little man. You scarred me there for a second." He moaned, half-asleep as he kissed the boy's temple. "What are you doing here? Huh? Where's your mum?"

Jadzia smiled walking back over to the bed, sitting at the edge. "You okay?"

He glanced up at her. "Yeah. Just tired."

"I can take-"

"Nah. Leave him here."

"Kay," she rubbed his feet before standing.

/-/-/-/

"How did this happen? How!"

Jayton felt himself flinch at Riker's harsh words, cowering back into his chair when he felt the furious glare the Captain was sending to everyone. He shifted, looking across the table at Captain Ivinch. She too was looking rather intimidated by the younger Captain.

"Twenty ships- twenty! - got through the boarder! How? What were you all doing there? Having a party? A little sight seeing? Then again, maybe if you had been you would have noticed the Federation armada!"

Jayton flinched once again, looking away with a shameful blush. He would admit that he had had his doubts about Riker way back in the beginning, agreeing with the others only because he was Picard's successor. And while he had held himself well and demanded the respect of all around him, it wasn't until that moment he realized just how good Riker was. If he could make a Captain of twenty years feel like a first year Cadet, he deserved the position.

He heard Riker sigh behind him and could hear his footsteps taking him back to the head of the table. "I had my first officer give an estimated trajectory…" he looked up, his eyes going directly to the back of the long conference table.

Jayton turned, following his eyes as he listened. "They would have entered through your section, Commander Teal."

Teal gawked up at Riker. There had been something about him since the first day that had rubbed Jayton the wrong way. Something…

The Human shook his head. "We had a sensor malfunction. We reported it. Someone must have heard that?"

"And, undoubtedly, so did the Federation ships."

Riker's eyes burned into Teal's even as he listened to the Vulcan Captain. Jayton saw nothing in Teal's eyes- he was trained to lie like the rest of them. Jayton looked back at Riker. The Captain nodded slowly, turning away.

"That must haven been it. They used the weakness in the sensor grid to their advantage. Keep me apprised of your situations. Dismissed."

/-/-/-/

/-_**A Week Later**_

"Finish your food, Liz."

The girl didn't look up from the thick liquid she was dejectedly pushing around with her spoon. Her elbow on the table, she rested her head on her hand. With a slow shake of the head, her curly brown hair draped around her tiny arm.

"I'm not hungry."

"Liz, you have to eat. You have to leave soon."

"I don't want to go to school," she whined, her voice unnaturally quiet.

Deanna looked away form Chamberlain, the boy chewing on the cracker before pulling it out of his mouth. "Do you feel sick, honey?"

Liz shrugged, but her mother could sense the answer to her own question. Stepping around the table and kneeling down beside her daughter, Deanna felt the girl's forehead. "You're burning up! Does your head hurt?" Slowly Liz nodded. "What about you stomach?" Again the girl just nodded.

Lightly caressing her hot cheek, Deanna stood, glancing at Chamberlain as she went past. _"Mother? Where do you keep the medical tricorder?" _

"_In the kitchen pantry. Why?" _

"_Liz is sick." _

"_With what?" _

Deanna resisted rolling her eyes, though she knew her mother had already sensed the response. _"She has a fever and stomach ache," _she thought to her mother as she walked back into the kitchen, hearing Lwaxana rushing down the stairs.

"_She has a temperature of 104 degrees!"_ Deanna sighed, looking at her mother. _"I'm taking her to the hospital. Stay here and watch Chamberlain, will you?"_ "Come here, honey."

Lwaxana pushed away a curly lock, kissing her grandchild's temple. _"I hope you feel better, Little One."_ She looked away as soon as her daughter was gone from sight.

Her expression was grim until her eyes found her grandson. The boy was just sitting in his chair, playing carelessly with his food as he made pointless noises. "I guess it's just you and me, huh?"

/-/-/-/

/-_**Around the Same Time **_

"This is hopeless."

Salizhan sighed as she leaned back in her chair, stretching her arms above her head. Eyes never leaving the screen, she read and reread the data before her. It didn't look good.

Rubbing the dark scales on the back of her neck, she reached for her coffee mug. Empty. Salizhan stood with a groan and walked to the quarantine door.

"Computer," she called as she looked around her empty workstation, "time?"

"_The time is 1023 hours." _

"Thank-you." She glanced around once again, her metallic eyes searching the crowd for any sign of Deanna. She wasn't mad so much as worried that her friend hadn't called her. Any explanation would be fine.

But she had none.

With another sigh, Salizhan entered her access code and stepped outside. It was a horrible pain to have to go through the entire process just for a cup of coffee, but the coffee was worth it in the end.

Even though she had assured the "higher ups", Salizhan and her team were still forced to go through decontamination. There wasn't a reason, but she knew they were just being safe. That or they enjoyed her discomfort.

Walking quickly down the hall, she turned the corner. They wouldn't allow a replicator inside the quarantine. Who knew what any of the infected could do with it. They could accidentally get something dangerous. And, without a large staff, they might not see it happening.

Luckily for her though, it was only a four minutes walk to the commissary. That's what the Admirals said- the ones who had a replicator right in their office.

But Salizhan supposed she shouldn't complain. She had been offered an office, but she preferred being where she was.

Salizhan slowed as she looked down the other hall. "Ambassador Troi?" The Betazoid turned around, quickly identifying Salizhan. "Do you know where Deanna is? She didn't show up this morning."

"Oh, she didn't tell you?" Salizhan shook her head. "Liz is sick."

"Oh, I'm sorry. Is she going to be all right?"

Lwaxana nearly shrugged, but held her rigid façade. "I was just on my way to see."

"Well, send my best wishes."

She nodded, "I will."

Sighing, Lwaxana looked over her shoulder. She thought for a moment and then went the other way.

It was a wonder that design and beauty escaped such a wonderful thing like the Federation and Starfleet. Even on a world such as Betazed. In Alliance Medical- what had been Starfleet Medical on Betazed- was so bland. So… the same.

Every hall was gray and metallic. All symmetrical. All the same. All made by replicators and machines.

All over Betazed, there was old, handcrafted beauty and wonder. Every mark, every carving, every design was hand made by an artist. Nothing was exactly the same. Not unless that had been the intent.

She turned down another hall and then another. Deanna had called home just twenty minutes ago. Liz was sick with the Bolian flu- potentially fatal to a Betazoid. But not so much to a Human. Luckily, it wasn't contagious any longer. Chamberlain, Deanna, and herself were not at risk.

But Liz was.

With Chamberlain spending the day, and possibly night, at the neighbor's house, Lwaxana had quickly arrived at Alliance Medical.  
/-/-/-/

/-_**A Week Later**_

"Hello, Geordie."

"Oh. Hey, Data."

The android nodded down at his friend, noting that the engineer moved his arm to allow him to sit beside him at the bar. Stiffly, his legs bent and he settled into the stool. He rested his arms on the counter, locking his fingers together.

He heard Geordie sigh next to him, holding up his glass. Data's yellow eyes watched the waiter refill the glass before ordering for himself. He had no real need for subtenants, but he enjoyed bonding with a friend over food.

"Did you hear about Liz?"

"Captain Riker's daughter?" he inquired as he turned.

The engineer's eyes looked over at him. Data had to admit that he had yet to become accustomed to seeing his friend's eyes even after five years. Geordie nodded. "I heard she's pretty sick."

"Who said this?"

Data watched Geordie shrug and take a sip of his amber liquid. "Just some of the nurses. I guess the Captain told Dr. Crusher. Something Bolian, I think they said."

Data's gaze moved back to his friend's eyes. Most Bolian diseases, while harmless to them, could easily become fatal to many other races.

"No, I had not heard this."

He watched as Geordie's head nodded slowly. "Poor guy… maybe you should offer to handle things with the Council."

Data nodded. "I shall speak with him about that."

He felt the warm flesh against his hand and turned his head to look once again at Geordie. "Just… don't mention Liz."

"Of course." And with the end of that conversation, Data drank down the last of his drink, feeling the liquid run smoothly down. He wondered briefly how different the feel was for a Human.

/-/-/-/

/-_**October, Two Weeks Later**_

"Hello again, Commander. Can I get you something? A drink?"

"You could get me the codes necessary to leave Earth- and Federation- space."

Manick's chest heaved rapidly as he laughed, his bright red face turning to the others. Those who had overheard were laughing too.

Turning back to Jaron, Manick fought to control his breathing to say, "No one can get into those. They change everyday. They're protected by all sorts of traps. No way. I'm not sending in anyone on a suicide mission."

"You must help me. I have to leave Earth. Immediately!"

"Can't you get them yourself?"

"No. I am not privy to that sort of information."

Manick shook his head. "I'm sorry. But we can't help. I would-"

Jaron rose, cutting off Manick's next words. "I do not want to listen to you justify your cowardice! Good-bye, Mr. Manick."

The Human sighed, standing. "Comman-" he said, by the Mikolian did not care to listen. He stormed away.

"You need codes?"

Jaron slowed, listening to where the voice had come from. Turning his head, he saw a Human male in the shadows. "What did you over hear?"

"I hear a lot of things, Commander. I know you have to leave. I can help."

"How?" His back was still to the man, but he was watching carefully. The Human stood causally. He seemed to be no threat.

"I have my ways. I can get them for you. Just tell me when you need them."

"Tomorrow. I will be in orbit. I will need those codes as soon as possible."

"No problem. How can I-"

"Frequency 29045. In three days. 0600. Can you get in then?"

"Yeah," the man nodded. "I can."

/-/-/-/

/-_**A Few Days Later**_

Riker sighed as he looked over at the door. The chime rang throughout his ready room again.

"Enter."

Data stepped through the door only a moment later. His eyes swept over the room before they settled on Riker. The Captain was standing with his back to the door, his body tense as he starred out at the stars.

"Captain, we will arrive at Betazed in three minutes."

"Yes, Data. I know."

The android nodded, even though he knew the man could not see the action. Riker turned to look at him. "Something else?"

"I wanted to inquire if you will require the ship's logs and reports for your meeting with the Alliance Council."

He nodded slowly. "I should probably bring those. Yes. Thank-you."

"Captain?"

"Yes, Data?"

The android paused a moment. Riker looked over at him; Data rarely needed such time to word anything. "I was thinking that, perhaps, it would be wise for me to attend the meeting with the Alliance Council."

The Captain sighed, glancing over his first officer. "And why do you say that?"

"You have seemed… distracted lately. It may be prudent for you to relax… to be with your family. I-"

"Who told you, Data?"

"Captain?"

"Who told you about Liz?" The android shook his head. Loyalty ran deep with the entire crew- amazingly even within the supposedly emotionless android. "Thank-you, Data. I would appreciate that… I'll tell them you will be there for me."

Data nodded and turned to leave. But then he paused and turned back to Will. "I hope Elizabeth will recover soon."

Will smirked. "Thanks."

/-/-/-/

/-_**Around the Same Time **_

"What do you think you're doing?"

He looked up. An intimidating Mikolian stood before him, his hand on his disruptor. "What? This is what I do."

"What is that?" The alien asked, stepping into the room.

He watched his feet, noting that they stood nearly a meter and a half away from his own. "Well, come here and I'll show you."

"Explain it to me from here."

"It's very complicated. If you don't want to know, leave me be. I have work to do." The alien huffed, taking two steps closer. He glanced down. Close enough. "Well," he started slowly, "do you see that on the screen there?" His head turned towards the alien, seeing his head nod. But he didn't pay attention to his face.

Instead his eyes were distracted by the handle of a knife on his belt.

"Good. That number is…" he hesitated a moment, thinking quickly, "the amount of pressure on the surface of the inter-faze coils, multiplied by twice the amount of… well gravity pushing down on the, uh… core reactor, which is then divided by the quantity of helium in the stratosphere. That number, of course, correlates into the third number, there, which tells me how many litters of… sodium chloride to use while calculating the seventh number, there…"

He smirked slightly when he saw that the alien was too busy studying the numbers to feeling his hand pulling the knife from its sheath. "Then how-" the alien's eyes glanced down, seeing the glare of the blade.

There was no second for him to hesitate. He struck as quickly as he could, sliding the blade through the alien's side. Blood dripped from his hand as he released the handle; the alien stumbled backwards. Glancing up at the Human, a scowl formed on his lips and he pulled his knife from his gut.

The Human swallowed hard, calculating quickly their difference in size and weight. He was no match for the alien; it would be an easy fight for the alien barehanded. Blocking the first strike, he winced as he felt the alien's elbow connect with his side.

Immediately after his breath caught. His face was one of confusion when the alien stepped away once again, just like he had before. This time the alien collapsed before his eyes.

But he looked down at himself. Alien blood was already on his hand, but fresh blood dripped down his shirt. His knees buckled as the adrenaline faded away and he fell to his side.

Breath after breath, he drew in life, forcing himself to continue to live. His chest gently rose, pain ripping through his torso as he tore his wound farther.

A dirty hand was his wound's only protection from the elements, pushing down as hard as he dared to stop the blood flow.

Grinding his teeth together, he pulled himself along the floor, inhaling sharply as pain flowed steadily through his veins. Every nerve seemed alive with pain.

His eyes dropped and his mind slowed. It was as if his energy seemed to leak from his body with the blood dripped through his fingers.

His hand gripped the side of the console, pulling his body. His muscles tensed, causing him more pain. He reached out again, stretching his fingers as he tried to get farther. But he couldn't reach.

His body relaxed, settling against the cold metal surface of the floor. He put his head back, closing his eyes. He was tired. He wished nothing more than to close his eyes and sleep.

But he couldn't. He tried, working hard to keep his eyes opened. He grunted, ignoring the pain in his stomach as he reached up, gripping the console. He pulled, forcing himself off the ground.

His body had made it a few inches before his head began to spin, his body going limp from dizziness and exhaustion. His fingers slipped, his arm landing across his chest. His fingers relaxed and his eyes rolled back. His eyelids never closed.  
/-/-/-/

/-_**Around the Same Time**_

He walked as quickly as his legs would carry him, ignoring the nurses and doctors around him. They were all Alliance; he outranked them all. That seemed to be the only good things about the uniform he was still wearing. He simply hadn't had the time to change.

Turning down the hall, his eyes glanced over the numbers. Of course they were all in Betazoid. He paused, looking at the curved lines. Not the right room, if he remembered correctly.  
He kept walking. Running, nearly.

Lwaxana hadn't said much in her transmission. She hadn't known much herself at the time. All she had known was that it was Bolian or something. Dr. Crusher said that wasn't good.

Will took a deep breath as he looked up. It looked like the right numbers. He opened the door, peeking inside. A young form was lying in the bed. Her face was pale, the color enhanced by her dark locks. Her eyes were closed; she looked…

The woman in the chair stirred when the door opened. She turned. A sigh of relief left her lips when she saw him.

"How is she, Deanna?"

Deanna just shook her head. He swallowed the lump in his throat and approached her. Setting his hands on her shoulder, he felt her own hand rest on his, and he looked down at his sleeping daughter.

Her eyes blinked slowly, fluttering opened. Will smiled. "Hey there, kid."

A weak smiled tugged her lips. "Daddy?"

"I'm right here, Liz." He took her hand, rubbing the hot flesh gently. She tried to nod, but the action was subtle and Will barely noticed it.

"And look who else is here, Liz." Deanna pointed behind them.

Lwaxana stood behind the translucent door, smiling at the girl. In her arms she held Chamberlain. The boy seemed more interested with something down the hall until his grandmother pointed at the window. Suddenly his features lit up and he waved, putting his face right on the window.

Liz tried to smile again. But her eyes were drooping. Deanna placed a kiss on her forehead, pushing away the locks. "Go back to sleep honey. We'll be right here."

Liz nodded, the movement was even less defined, and then she closed her eyes.

/-/-/-/

/-_**Around the Same Time**_

"Already this year they have attacked Deep Space Nine. They have infected a second planet with their bioweapon. And Starfleet ships defended a Mikolian attack on one of our outposts. They violated our space! All this is validation enough to go to war with Earth."

"No," Lwaxana said slowly, looking up with the surprised murmurs. "It is validation enough to go to war with the Mikolians. They infected the outpost; they destroyed the other."

"And did you not hear of the twenty Federation ships that attacked Deep Space Nine?"

Lwaxana sighed, nodding at Moricz's words. "That is true. And you want to go to war for that?"

"People were killed. Ships were destroyed. There are now one hundred infected with an unknown contagion," the Andorian Ambassador said. "Is that not reason enough for you?"

Pell looked at her. "Why are you fighting this so hard?"

"War," Lwaxana said easily, "Means many more deaths. It means that I have to tell my granddaughter- my grandson- why their daddy will not be coming to visit half as often. War means my daughter and I may one day have to tell them why their daddy will never be coming home…

"I do not know if I am ready for that. If I am ready to be responsible for hundreds of mothers and fathers explaining that to their children."

Then she raised her head, looking around the Council Chambers. She could sense that many agreed. But she could also sense that they felt other things outweighed that feeling.

Her eyes drifted from the others in their raised chairs. Away from the other's who would soon decide the fate of thousands. It landed shortly on the stoic face of her android acquaintance. She could not read him- she wasn't sure if there was anything to read. But she could almost say that he seemed anxious as to what their decision was.

Whatever they decided only affected them slightly. But it affected him greatly.

"We will vote then."

Nearly every hand rose in favor of war. Merely a handful was opposed. Lwaxana's never rose.

She nodded. "To war then."

/-/-/-/

/-_**Around the Same Time**_

"Come on, Human. Hurry up."

He moaned as he looked down at the chronometer. The Human should have already contacted him. It was nearly thirty minutes after. Looking up at the end of the atmosphere, he sighed.

Without the Human, it would be impossible not to be detected. Nearly impossible to escape. But he didn't have the time. They would notice him just waiting there soon.

Shaking his head, he activated the controls. Death was better than the life he was being forced to live.  
/-/-/-/

/-_**November, A Week Later**_

"Captain's Log. Stardate: 37611.04.

"A peculiar discovery was made a few days ago. A Mikolian fighter was floating a drift on the Alliance boarder. After a thorough search, findings show that it had been attacked by several Starfleet vessels. The pilot- a Mikolian Commander- was unfortunately killed by radiation poisoning. Engineers say that it was probably caused by the damaged nacelles.

"After reviewing his computer logs, it appears that he had been a traitor. There are… tactics, weaponry, codes… valuable tactical data…

"We also discovered a short log detailing the identity and mission of a Federation spy. Commander Teal is now in Alliance Security awaiting validation of these claims and trial. Many of his crew is under inspection and the Aytona is now in dry dock. At lease that seems to solve the mystery with his ship before the battle at Deep Space Nine…

"Computer, end log."

/-/-

A lot of things happening there... Wow, that was one really long battle scene.

Please, review, give me your opinion on everything.


	14. Year 6: 2377

_Author's Note: _Oy! I can never seem to remember to post this story. Sorry about that! Well, here it is, the first chapter of Year 6. Hope you enjoy it!

/-

**Year Six: 2377**

/-/-/-/

/- _**January**_

Will tossed himself dejectedly onto the couch. He was exhausted; the day had been long and unbearable. He really just wanted to be back on Betazed with Deanna and his two children.

Chamberlain. He had barely since the boy. He had missed the first time he had walked- albeit he's only been able to take a few stable steps, but he was still missing it. He missed the first word he said: "da'na", the Betazoid word for mother.

He had missed so much of the boy's life, nearly all of his short existence. He wanted to tell himself that the boy would live for years upon years, that he had plenty of time to see him grow. But, if he were honest with himself, he was afraid of how little time he had. Would he have years upon years to live?

Will sighed. He had missed Liz's birth, but had promised himself that he wouldn't miss another important event in her life. And he had been there for a good six of them, visited as often as he could for the last two.

And he had sworn to himself that he would do the same for Chamberlain. So far, the only real thing he had been there for was his conception and birth. He hadn't even been around for much of Deanna's pregnancy.

Will ran a hand through his hair, not caring that he had only made it messier. He rubbed his eyes, trying to stay awake long enough to get to his bed. But, before he could even lift himself up off the couch, his eye caught the image of an old-fashion picture. One Deanna had had made for him.

A soft smile tugged at his lips as he looked at the paper photo set behind the glass and wooden frame he had replicated. As much as the picture had warmed his heart and made him smile, it also only seemed to help sorrow him farther.

Picking it up, Will ran his hand over the dark oak wood. He looked down at the image, easily seeing how eventful and fun the day had been.

Chamberlain sat on Deanna's lap, his face and hands covered in his first taste of birthday cake. Deanna had been determined to teach both their children the tradition of presents and cake (chocolate, of course) on their birthdays, even if Lwaxana couldn't understand it.

That day, Liz had enjoyed another party, though not as ecstatic for she was no longer completely in the limelight. The child might be well behaved, but she still liked to soak up as much attention as she could.

Lwaxana hung over by Liz, the little girl bending over the table as she stood on her chair to see every detail that went on. A smile and laugh was on all their lips, amused by the toddler's enjoyment of the sugar.

Will chuckled for the thousandth time at the picture. But then quickly sobered, recalling how he was nowhere to be seen in the picture, because he wasn't there that day. He had missed his own son's first birthday because he had to be somewhere else. Because he just couldn't get back there.

That was nearly three months ago, and he had only seen his one-year-old son once between that span of time. It pained him to say that, but it would pain him far more if Chamberlain was killed because he lived onboard the _Enterprise_.

Will sighed, putting down the picture. It was for the better, wasn't it? That was why he told Deanna to stay with her mother. Right?

He walked into his room, falling onto the bed. He wouldn't be able to see them for another two or three weeks- he hoped, anyway. That was only if nothing else came up. Even if it did, he could just pawn it off on someone else. He was in command or something, was he not?

Well, there was time to think about that when it came to it. Now, he just wanted to sleep. Just go to bed forever…

/-/-/-/

/-_**Two Weeks Later**_

"Captain's Log. Stardate, 37701.21.

"Yesterday, the presidential elections came to an end. It was rather late… no one around here knows exactly what stalled it but…

"But it's official. President Amen will remain president for another five years. His term will be up then. Somehow, though, I'm sure he's got something up his sleeve. Something…"

Riker paused, sighing as he collected his thoughts. As an official log, there wasn't much else to say. Oh, he had plenty to say, but nothing that belonged in his official captain's log. Nothing that should really be in his personal logs either.

He let out a breath, scratching the side of his nose. New topic would be safer ground.

"Lwaxana-" Since when had he referred to her as 'Lwaxana' so easily?

He scratched the back out his neck, sighing as he said, "Computer, delete last word."

"_Word deleted."_

He nodded absent mindedly as his thoughts returned to where they had been. "I spoke with Ambassador Troi earlier. She informed me- albeit briefly- about Ketrel ambassadors coming to Betazed… Apparently they've made remarkable progress in the past seven years- gawd! Has it been that long? …

"Computer, delete last sentence."

"_Sentence delete. Last word: 'years'."_

"Um… we've kept our eye on them over the years. They have made they're own fleet. It's small and not overly advanced but it's a start.

"Ambassador Troi believes their intentions are to either offer their help or ask for some. Either way, she believes it would be wise to decline. They're fleet's small- it wouldn't be prudent to have it wiped out months after it's been commissioned. And we obviously have little aid to hand out…"

Riker sighed. "Computer, end log."

/-/-/-/

/-_**Around the Same Time**_

"We have a modest fleet, Ambassadors. Barely thirty ships. But it is something to add."

Lwaxana nodded slowly, sighing as she did. "We appreciate your desire to extend your help… but I am afraid that we can not accept the offer."

"And why is that, Ambassador Troi?"

The Betazoid's eyes shifted to find the deep, strong voice across from her. When he had visited her office earlier, her lips had smiled but her eyes had not. She had felt the pain of guilt forgetfulness brings. The type of forgetfulness that her kind of life brought. Forgetting a name or a face because too many years of "important business" had batter it aside.

Scartin looked back at her. She remembered now, after a slight moment of embarrassment, who he was. She remembered, though, that his eyes had been softer then. Gentler and lighter. They had always been that same, dark color, but no longer were they alive with youth and dreams. Now they were hard and set.

She wondered sometimes if only her Betazoid heritage had kept her from such a fate. Her heritage and life and culture rolling into an invulnerable look of life and youth in her eyes…

Other times she wondered if it was there, just unseen to her own wearied eyes.

"Because, Scartin, your planet may still be united after years of hard work, but that work is far from over. A stable government- and now fleet- is important.

"For once, your people feel safe, protected. They are cooperative, enjoying long deserved peace. What do you think will be their response when they discover their planet is going to war? For an outside cause they care nothing about?"

"The majority of our population has already agreed."

Lwaxana's eyes moved away, finding the bald, blue-skinned Fruma. Years earlier, the Ambassador had gone to their planet and observed her people. They were telepaths, at least somewhat. However Lwaxana found no similar traces of mental advancement in her Ketrelian counterparts.

"That may be so," she heard Pell say. The four others of the Council had not been there years ago. No, the two others were dead along with another good friend of hers. "But what of that minority? They would potentially disrupt the peace you have so recently created. This single action could tear your planet's fragile government apart."

Lwaxana nodded her agreement slowly. "The thought and the offer is great appreciated but, as I said, we cannot accept. Thirty ships are not very many in the large picture. It is uncertain if they could do us any good."

Fakhr nodded slowly. His dark locks fell over his pale face. "We apologize for taking your time." With his hands on the table, he rose, the other two doing the same. "If, in the future, you require any assistance, please contact us. We would be most glad to help."

Lwaxana rose and bowed her respect, the others doing the same. "Of course, Fakhr, we will do just that."

/-/-/-/

/-_**February, A Few Days Later**_

"It's no use! I can't get through their shields- our phasers are too weak!"

"Keep trying. Divert power from somewhere!"

Commander Keating put out a hand to steady herself. Red streaked hair flew in her face at the sudden jolt. "Take some from the inertial dampeners! They're not doing us much good right now."

She could barely see the tactical officer as she glanced over at him in the dim lighting, but she knew he was smirking.

"Where can we take some from, Lieutenant?" The Captain asked, not sparing even the normal, frustrated glance at his first officer. His voice was harsh and Keating knew it wasn't all directed at her.

The Lieutenant looked up. "Life support is about it!"

"Find somewhere else!"

He nodded obediently and looked down at his console. Keating glanced him over. She knew his slumped shoulders and tense look was not caused entirely by the battle, but by the futility of his newest mission. There was nothing left. She could see it in his stance.

The ship shook hard. Keating toppled onto the ground. She looked for the tactical officer before she even bothered to get up off the ground. He was using his console to stand. With a slow shake of the head, he relented.

"It's no good, sir. The shields are down to seven percent!"

Keating sighed, coughing out the lungful of air. Her eyes found where part of the wall had been only hours before. A forceshield was shimmering in its place.

A suddenly worried thought crossed her mind. Her head moved quickly to catch the Lieutenant's eye. Then darted down to see why the Captain hadn't yet answered.

And she froze.

For just that short moment, she froze. Everything slowed. A second became a lifetime.

The weight on her mind grew suddenly; her shoulders felt the imaginary weight forcing them down. Her stomach seemed to physically fall to the ground. She suddenly found it hard to swallow.

"Commander?"

Keating's eyes were drawn away from the sight by the fragile voice. The Lieutenant was looking at her.

No shields. Almost no weapons. Power was gone…

The world seemed to catch up to her. It was an almost physical sensation. The ground felt as if it was given a sudden jolt. But her rational mind decided it might have actually done so.

"Tell… tell the others… we're pulling back."

/-/-/-/

Riker cringed at the sounds. He knew them all well... far too well. Battle was not a foreign concept to him. He could drown out the alarm and the hissing smoke and the sparks and roar of fire. Sounds of falling beams were heard and forgotten. Moans of injured were forced form the mind. In battle he heard nothing but the sound of adrenaline pounding in his veins.

He heard these sounds for the first time in many, many years. Sitting perked in his Captain's chair with no enemy in sight, he heard it all. Adrenaline was growing steadily, but his ears were clear to hear every horrifying sound of war just as he had during his first engagement.

Bile rose in his throat but he forced it down. It had been a while since he had heard moans of agonizing death reached his ears.

The alarms from the other ships rang, mixing with the slower beat of the alarm on his own bridge. The yellow lights faded from existence. Riker could swear that he saw red flashing in his eyes.

It was a maddening rate and level of noise. He heard the sparks, flinching every time as if they were truly around him.

Voices shouted over the sounds. Orders were clip. Short and rushed.

For some reason, Riker never remembered the moment as being so fast. His memories of it seemed so slow. A dragging pace at times. He had time- a slim amount- to think and process.

His eyes closed out of some primitive reflex. He managed somehow to keep his body from tensing visibly. Even the gasp was silenced in his throat.

Something had exploded. A console, he wished to believe. Something told him that was not true.

A voice crackled to life. Riker's numb ears listened. He announced himself as a Commander. Riker recognized the name.

Worry creeped into his features. His ears perked and his body straightened. He listened intently to the frantic words. The ship was dead. No lifepods available. Two ships were locked onto them. The man was desperate. He was frighten… He was also Jayton's first officer.

/-/-/-/

"I repeat! Shields are down to twenty percent! Lifepods are inaccessible-"

Commander Tette looked up when he heard the Commander cut himself off, fearing the worst. All he did was slap his hand against the console in explanation. He was wasting energy and they all knew it.

The Commander spun around suddenly. Tette watched as his eyes surveyed his bridge. He knew what his commander was seeing. Not the physically beating ship, the damage and wreckage. He was seeing that they had no hope, no escape, and nothing left to fight with.

"They're closing on the stern, sir. Aft canons are down."

"Increase aft shields."

Tette just shook his head, glancing back at his commanding officer as he did so. "There's no power to movethere."

"Well find some!"

Tette sighed. He looked down and half-worked, half-pretended to work. There was nothing to be done, but he wouldn't let his ship down. "One of the ships is losing power… its port nacelle is vulnerable."

"Take him out."

Tette only offered a curt nod. But before he seemed to do anything, his eyes were drawn to the screen. Eyes widened slightly at the sight of the explosion.

"Nice work."

"Wasn't me, sir. It was the _Reid_."

The ship rock violently, knocking the commandeer to the ground and forcing Tette to fall into his console.

"Shield are gone!"

"Fi-!"

/-/-/-/

Static was all that meet those listening on the _Enterprise_ bridge.

Dead silence. There was a deafening pause before…

An explosion of sound suddenly followed, echoing throughout before the static returned.

Slowly Riker stood, pushing himself form his chair in the center. He glanced over at Data. The android was standing at his side.

The Captain filled his lungs, forcing them empty in the next second. "ETA?" was forced passed his lips as his eyes settled on the back of the Helm officer's head.

The officer said nothing for he saw no need to. Just a minutes passed and the ship dropped from warp. Nothing was there. Large pieces of scattered metal and debris floated in space.

Riker eyed it all carefully. He found only a small amount of life pods. But they were hard to spot with the naked eye, he knew. The rest would undoubtedly by hidden in the debris. He hoped anyway.

"Data?"

"There are only nine life pose showing lifesigns, sir."

Riker nodded. "Send the _Montgomery _and the _Barrett_ to pick them up… how many?"

"Ninety-five people." Another nod. "Three ships have retreated half a lightyear away. All ships are in serious condition. Commander Keating is reporting that the _Zeus_ is without most main systems."

A third nod. Slowly Riker looked to the android. "Commander who?"

"Keating, sir. Captain Henderson's first officer. He is dead, Captain."

A fourth mute nod. "Let's… take the rest."

Riker's head bobbed, creating his fifth nod. Then a thought clicked into place. "What about the _Roddenberry_? Anything?"

Data looked up at his Captain. He had since sat back down in his chair and was reviewing the data on his console. "It was destroyed, Captain."

Riker grew paler. "Captain Jayton?"

Data paused, wrinkles in his face showing an emotion Riker had not seen before. "He… is currently on _Shadowland_… there were fifty others. They were beamed onboard by the _U.S.S. Reid_. That includes Commander Thomson and Commander Tette."

/-/-/-/

/-_**Around the Same Time**_

It was captivating.

She found herself unable to look away.

Liz stared up at the shelf from her spot on the floor. It was silver and it shined in the light that was streaming in from the floor length windows.

She wasn't sure what it was, but it intrigued her none-the-less.

Three rings seemed suspended in mid-air. The first- the smallest- was in the center. It had a small sphere attached, but it hadn't moved from its spot. The third was the largest and the other two were in the middle of it. It's sphere had moved hundreds of times all the way around already.

She was just sitting there watching it move around the rings.

"_Oh, there you are, dear."_

She glanced up quickly. Her uncle was standing there. Well, no, not her uncle. Lwaxana had said that he was her great uncle- she didn't see a difference.

He was somewhat shorter than her grandma and his body had started to de-shape itself in his age. His dark black hair had begun to gray in spots.

"_Uncle Domic? What that?"_

Domic didn't have to look to know what she was speaking about. The child was young and didn't realize that he could already hear what was on her mind. _"That, my dear, is a clock."_

"A clock?" He nodded, puzzled just slightly by her use of her voice. She hadn't spoken aloud since she entered his home. _"What it do?"_

"_It tells time, dear. See how the outer one moves quickly? And once it is all around, the middle one moves?" _He watched her confirming nodded. _"That is a minute. When the middle one has made it all the way around, the inner one will move- that is one hour."_

She sighed and looked up at him. Her look made him smile. It was the same he saw Lwaxana make so many times in their youth. That was her look of bewilderment- but it was never something she would admit to.

"_Come along, child. Your mother will be here soon."_

/-/-/-/

/-_**Two Weeks Later**_

Pell gazed out at the large expanse of land. She had seen it many hundreds of times from that same angle, but somehow it always managed to look different. It must have been the sky.

Mountains were towering over the trees in the far distance. She could just see the top of the Kalis Ohrli hill watching over the Mohsli Es lake, and right below her was the Troi estate. Mostly it was a garden- a tame domesticated maze following into the one of untamed beauty, stopping only at the barrier of water.

Pell's clothes swayed in the gentle breeze. It was growing late and the coolness of night was settling in. But the temperature didn't bother the Trill- Betazed nights were just below an average Trill day. It was her favorite time on her surrogate home.

"Mr. Homn has called a transport for you."

Pell turned slightly to see her good friend behind her. Lwaxana wrapped her arms around herself, stepping out onto the terrace.

"Tell him thank-you for me?"

"He already knows." Pell just nodded. She had spent years on Betazed and had grown accustomed to their omniscience, as she thought of it. It took her some time to grow used to them knowing seemingly everything.

Pell turned back, laying her hands on the rail. She heard footsteps and cloth rustling and knew that Lwaxana was standing beside her.

"So… I hear you're going back to Trill?"

"Yep," she joked with a nod, "Where's it is nice and cool. Betazed is wonderful but just slightly too warm for us Trills."

Lwaxana nodded. "It's the humidity. Trill doesn't have any."

"That's true," Pell shrugged.

Her friend smiled, sensing the woman's thoughts without meaning to. "When was the last time you saw Ayla? In person?"

Pell sighed, turning to lean against the rail. "Too long."

Silence fell over the pair. Pell glanced away, skimming the area with her eyes to see if the transport was there yet.

"Liz is looking much better."

"Yes. The doctor seemed too surprised about it for my liking. But she's better. That's all that matters."

Pell nodded. "She's not back in school yet, is she?"

"No. She still isn't eating that well. But she's been able to spend some of the time with my brother. You've meet Domic, haven't you?"

"Yes, I have. Well that's good. I hope she feels better."

"Children," Lwaxana said, Pell looked over at her, "Are resilient things. She'll be fine." The Betazoid paused a moment, an odd face appearing for an instant. Pell knew someone had said something to her telepathically. "Oh, the transport is here."

/-/-/-/

/-_**Around the Same Time**_

He held loosely onto the dark material. His one hand gripped the back, the other was set over his Mum's chest. He bounced lightly as she walked but paid no attention to the movement.

His eyes searched out the well tread area, settling on the landmarks he knew. There was the shop with all the clothes the strange man made. And then the food store with the singing man. A stand that sold yummy sweets.

He tried whimpering a moment, then pointed with his one hand. At first his Mum ignored him. Pouty eyes looked up at her then over at the nice lady- Kira. They were always talking.

"Hey, Jonathon." He glanced at the nice lady. She always called him that even though everyone else called him JJ. He didn't know why she didn't. But he looked anyway. Maybe she didn't know better.

The boy gave up his effort, blue eyes looking away and searching again. He could hear the noise from the place where the man with the big ears- Cork, his name sounded like- and the temple across from it.

Looking at it, he saw the same old man in red that always stood out on the stairs before lots of people went inside. His one hand strayed up near his ear, lightly feeling the thing on his ear. It was the same pretty jewels Kira and the old man and many others wore. Not Mum or Da, but everyone like Kira. Everyone with the wrinkled noses.

He let his hand drop. His Mum would scold him after a moment, he knew.

His Da's room was somewhere. He never could quite remember where it was. Just somewhere around.

He looked at the sound of an opening door. It was the funny man's room. He liked the funny man- Odo. He wasn't so sure that the funny man liked him though. But Odo was nice.

Sometimes when he played with Kira, Odo would come over. Odo could do weird things, like stretch his arm really long or do things with his face. It already looked weird- too flat and smooth.

But the funny man could do other things. Sometimes he turned into things. Like once he turned into a game and another he was a glass and sometimes he was an animal.

He wasn't really sure what he was. Everyone called him something different. He knew Mum was a Trill and Kira was a Ba- something, and Da was a Human. But Odo was lots of things- so he just called him Odo.

"Da!" There was Da's room. He immediately forgot about the funny man.

/-/-/-/

/-_**A Week Later**_

"So whose this guy again?"

Amen glanced over at Ken from his desk, the man perching on the edge of the wall table. "Hmm? Oh. Commander Azia. He was Jaron's right-hand man- promoted last month. He's in control of the second fleet."

Ken nodded. "Let's just hope that he's not as much as a stiff as Commander Jaron."

Amen snorted, laughing shortly with Ken. The doorchime quieted the noise. "Come, come."

The door slid open, revealing the leather clad Mikolian. He stepped over the threshold, clicking his heels and hitting his chest to salute the Human. "Commander Azia, sir. You wished to speak with me?"

"Yes, yes." Amen stood slowly, glancing the young man over. "Stand at ease. Please, have a seat." Azia relaxed only slightly, clasping his hands behind his back.

Amen nodded very slightly, resting back into his chair. "Alright. What do you have to say about your fleet?"

Azia's nod was stiff and barely visible but Amen just caught the movement. "The enhancements are coming along well. But we still have a weakness in our shields. It will be fixed before long."

"Good. Good to hear."

"Is that all, Mr. President?"

"Yes. I considered it important to have a good relationship with your former Commander. I think the same is true for the two of us. I want to be able to talk with you… trust you. Can I do that, Commander Azia?"

"My loyalties lie with my people and this alliance."

Amen shrugged. "I guess that's good enough for now. So… do you like chocolates?"

/-/-/-/

/-_**A Week Later**_

"How is Ensign Charles?"

Geordie glanced up. He let out a sigh, switching the tool in one hand with the other by his knee. "Not good at all. Dr. Crusher says… well, he… could you hand me that spanner?"

Data complied passing the tool over as he crouched down beside the opened panel. "The phase cuplings?"

"Yeah. Been acting up since the… engagement. Probably just a surge but I wanted to glance them over."

The engineer looked away, going back to his work. He let the amicable silence fall over them, hardly noticing how Data fell into helping him so easily. He watched his own hands work for a short time.

Mechanical eyes flashed a look over at the android. He sighed and turned back to his work. Hands moved on autopilot and his eyes went back to look at his old friend. An amused smile formed at a thought that crossed his mind.

It hadn't taken him very long to get used to his new uniform- he actually thought it was more comfortable than the other had been. But he had a lot of trouble seeing himself in green. He had more trouble seeing Data in red- might have been even harder to see the android in green though.

"I believe your initial assessment was correct. It seems to be only a power surge."

Geordie sighed and nodded. He set down his tools after a last adjustment. "Yep. Help me with that," he gestured to the panel cover.

Once it was back in place, "Uh… I'm going to… I should go see Ensign Charles."

"Perhaps I too should see him."

"He's unconscious. It's not necessary." Geordie ran his hand through his hair, scratching the back of his neck. "Okay, I'm going to go. Okay." He scratched his chin, looking one way before turning the other.

/-/-/-/

/-_**Around the Same Time**_

Damn them all. That was her opinion on the situation.

Damn the Federation and Starfleet and President Amen and everyone associated with any three. Hell, she would just as easily place on the blame on the Alliance and Alliance Fleet.

Crusher pushed out against her desk, rising out of her chair. There were so many Humans- and there were others like Kebs and Glintors. So many, far too many, were injured… were dying… were dead.

Almost all were from Earth or nearby colonies. She had tried tirelessly every time to contact family. But every time either Starfleet or Alliance Fleet was jamming transmissions into Federation territory.

And it was damned annoying!

She had tried for two days to contact his parents, but she could get them. There were three that were dead- two were Humans- but she hadn't tried their families yet. She felt guilty but he… but Chris was still alive. Not for long though.

It was hard to just look at his face. The skin was deformed, burned and charred. He was sleeping, that made it easier. Actually, she had knocked him out. He had been awake but she couldn't take the pain in his eyes.

That was what she felt her life was reduced to- forcing a smile to her face so that she could lie to kids like Ensign Charles… Chris. There was no pride in that. No honor.

Sometimes she even felt, when pushed into the thought, that there was no pride in treating a bruise or headache. But at least that made her feel good. War… death… brought her far away from that.

They were losing the war. She could see that. They hadn't won much in the way of battles in quite some time. Others might have protested, saying that losing battles didn't mean losing the war.

But she would disagree. She was a doctor; she knew the real meaning of losing. People were dying- the first one to die was the one that told her that the battle had already been lost.

People tossed numbers in her face. Statistics and percents. They all said the loss was minimal and insignificant. But they didn't know war like she did. They spent war in rooms, crunching numbers and running simulations. She spent it holding the hands of their numbers and simulations.

They didn't understand, but only their God could help them. She had no prayers left for them- all hers went out to the people she knew would fall through her doors. To the ones that had no chance.

Collapsing into her chair, Crusher rubbed her eyes, both hands then massaging her temples. It had been a long few years. Sometimes- many times- she wondered if she had slept at all during them.

/-/-/-/

/-_**March, A Few Days Later**_

"And where are we going all dressed up?"

Ken glanced over at his president, momentarily perturbed by the annoyance. "I have a date."

"A date? My little Kenny is all grown up." The Ambassador tried his best not to toll his eyes at the remark. He shook his head and continued on, but Amen was still besides him. "I know you have somewhere to be, but would you mind briefing me quickly on the weapon's situation? I'm headed that way now."

A frown appeared. "You couldn't get it from Dr. Keithers instead?"

"Oh, I do plan to debrief him as well. But his views are medical. I want the political side- your side."

Ken sighed. "I don't know."

"You mean you haven't been keeping up on you research?"

"No…" Ken sighed, smoothing down his hair with his one hand. "Um, it's… moving."

"And the third drop?"

The Ambassador shrugged. "Months. Things seem behind. I don't think it can be dropped for a while."

"Are you sure?" Amen stopped, reaching out a hand to stop his colleague. Ken let out a breath, shifting his weight and not meeting the President's eye. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah. Yes, I'm sure."

Amen nodded. "Good. Good. I shall speak to Dr. Keithers and mention your concerns. Hopefully he can spread more light on the problem."

"Yeah. Right-"

"So how is Dr. Keithers working out? Likeable? Agreeable? Cooperative? Competent? All that stuff?"

Ken glanced at the man, then back down at his feet. "Yeah. Yeah, I guess. Look, I gotta run. We'll talk later."

"Yes. See you in the morning. Have fun!"

The man hurried away, practically bouncing out the door. He flashed his pass at the man at the security.

"You're looking good." Ken's gaze shot over to the right, peering over the gate. He smiled, stepping outside the security. "Why thank-you. But what are you doing here? I thought-"

"It was actually on my way. I thought I might surprise you."

Ken's grin widened. "Well you certainly did. Shall we?"

The woman smiled and nodded. Ken offered an arm. She looked at it for just a moment, her brow dipping into a confused frown. But, after a brief hesitation, she lopped her arm through his and Ken led them away.

/-/-/-/

/-_**Trill**__**Around the Same Time**_

Pell blinked back the sun as she stepped out into the street. She stood, looking out at the road, waiting for her sight to adjust.

Her feet lead her to the right, taking her where they wished. And she let them walk the path of her childhood home by heart. She had been offered a transport, but she had declined. She wanted to see her city. She wanted to feel the cool Trill breeze and smell the fresh summer's air.

She gazed over at the other side of the street. A group of teens- most Trills but not all- were huddled around each other. Some leaned against the building, a few sat on the entrance stairs, and the others just stood near. Pell thought a moment, realizing the time difference; they must have just gotten out of school.

Pell looked away slowly. They were at least fifteen, maybe sixteen or seventeen. They could join the Alliance Fleet soon. Kids not much older than them were fighting, some dying, in the pointless war.

Her feet brought her farther away from them. She shifted her bag on her shoulder, turning down the next block.

Pell pulled her mind away from the teens she had seen. Pulled her mind away from work and the war. She was on vacation; she was going to see Ayla. She wasn't there to worry… but that was just how it was…

Her eyes fell on an old building before her. It had been a popular store when she was young. She and her friends spent more time there than home.

She knew that if she looked over her shoulder she would see the Temple her family had attended. She wondered briefly it Mohr Enzoa was still there. Ayla would have told her if he had left.

She blinked and walked on. Her mind was drawn back to the site of her childhood- what had Lwaxana called it?- "hang-out". Thoughts of the war brought images of her city in ruins. She could only wonder how many had seen that for reality. How many homes had been destroyed in the past few long months?

Pell diverted her eyes to the ground. She didn't want to look at the buildings- not at that moment. She watched, brows creasing as she felt pricks of water against her skin. Spots on the street darkened.

She paused, looking up to the sky. It was raining. She let a smile grow on her lips. She had loved the rain as a child. She had, however, never learned until she was older how quickly a light shower could get worse.

She continued on her way, feeling the water soaking through her light clothes. She moved faster, feeling as if she was nearly at a run as she made her way up the front walk.

Pell slipped silently thorough the door, clicking into place behind her. Doors in old Trill homes were opened by hand. She liked that more than the automatic ones everywhere else. It had always amused her than Lwaxana's house was one of the few left on Betazed that had hand-sliding doors.

Turning around, Pell let her bag fall from her shoulder. The soft noise echoed in the empty room.

She sighed, looking around herself. It was different. But just slightly. The table was moved over. The painting was hung on the opposite wall, another in its old spot. She could swear that colors had changed but she couldn't spot which.

Glancing down at the bag, she stepped around it and walked into the left hall. Like all Trill homes, the rooms were open and all the halls connected eventually for they all wrapped around the center garden.

Her eyes drifted to the glass windows. Raindrops trailed down, creating small rivers. Outside, a light shower of rain cascaded onto the short Trill trees and delicate sand. She could spend tomorrow retracing patterns, something she had once loved almost more than the rain itself.

Another sigh escaped her lips. No matter the weather, it was her beautiful home. Her beautiful Trill. And she had missed it so much…

Her ears perked suddenly.

Over the sounds of rain, her ears could pick out the subtle echo of footsteps. Familiar footsteps.

A smile tugged her lips. Ayla.

"Did those Betazoids teach you the habit of leaving your things wherever you please?"

She turned slowly, letting her eyes find the source of the voice. "Hey stranger."

/-/-/-/

/-_**The Following Day**_

"Smith! Ambassador, I have to speak with you."

Ken paused, twisting his body to see Amen approaching. The President was livid, his breathing uneven and hoarse.

"Yes?"

Amen only grew angrier at the even tone of Ken's voice. He halted before the Ambassador rather dramatically and well within Ken's "personal area".

"Don't be coy with me, boy. I've been around a lot longer than you!"

Ken didn't flinch at the harsh words, only aggravating Amen further. But the Ambassador did step back, straightening his body and catching the President's eye. "I'm not sure what you're talking about, sir."

"No? Well let me help you. Yesterday- before your little date- you told me how behind the project was. How it would take months. How Dr. Keithers was just barely pulling it together. Ringing any bells?"

"Yes, but-"

"Well none of that's true! Dr. Keithers assures me he'll have the third one ready to drop in a matter of weeks. Less if that's what I wanted. I said no, that a couple of weeks was better than what I had been told earlier."

"Okay… so I was wrong. I apologize. It won't happen again."

Amen shook his head, eyes glaring at the younger man. "No!" With a breath, he blinked and turned away. "If I didn't know better, Ken, I'd say you didn't want this to work out… is that true, Ken?"

The man didn't blink; his face was void of any emotion. "I want this to work, Mr. President. Just as much as you do."

Amen nodded, eyeing Ken awkwardly for a moment. "Okay… give me a report- a real one. Tonight, 1700."

"Yes, sir."

/-/-/-/

/-_**Two Weeks Later**_

It was dark. Not a real dark. But it felt dark.

The ground shook beneath his feet. Jon reached out a hand to steady himself, but the ground kept shaking and he fell to his knees.

Jon's shoulder hit the side of the wall, making him wince in pain as he collapsed against the school building.

He didn't know what was happening. The planet hadn't shown signs of tectonic activity for years. The weather was supposed to be fine for the day…

The shaking stopped. Jon rose his head from his knees. Somewhere in his mind he knew he needed to get up. He needed to find safety. Find his parents. But something weighed him down. Not a physical thing.

Fear pressed down on his chest, it felt nearly to the point of suffocation. He couldn't breath. Couldn't move.

Jon looked up. The sky seemed darker. Nothing had changed, but it seemed darker. He could see something. Three black dots. Black blurs.

Ships maybe? Were they there to help? … Or had they caused the problem?

Jon forced movement to his body. Forced himself to stand. On two shaky legs he stepped forward. But then he stopped.

Something smelled weird. Smoke and fire. But something else. Something sweet. He breathed through his mouth but then he could taste it. Taste the sweetness of something.

He could see smoke growing at the outskirts of the city. Clear white smoke. He thought that odd. And it was growing. He thought that odder.

Jon stood paralyzed in his spot. He just stared at the smoke. It was growing and within a matter of minutes he was surrounded by it. Surrounded by the thick sweet taste. He sucked in a deep breath, his lungs filling with the sweet smoke. He coughed, the action serving only to make him inhale more.

Jon rubbed his eyes. They were watering, distorting his vision. But it didn't really matter. The smoke hid everything anyway.

His lungs began to burn, stinging with a passion. He blinked quickly, forcing the liquid away.

A sharp pain in the back of his head shocked him, taking his mind from his other pains. It dulled after a moment, but it was still there. He reached his hand back, touching the area. There was no blood.

Jon winced as the pain grew once again. A hot, white pain behind his right eye. It spread, burning his eye and behind his right ear. Rational thought was all that let him know the right side of his head wasn't on fire.

Jon dropped back to his knees. It hurt. His vision was blurring. Things became more distorted. Not just what he saw. He could still taste the smoke but somewhere in his mind he couldn't place the taste to the white smoke. The thought past quickly though.

The smoke disappeared suddenly from view, as if the wind had simply pushed it away. Even the smell and taste had left. He still couldn't connect the two things.

His head lolled back, eyes staring up at the sky. It was no longer dark. It was no longer normal. It just was.

/-/-/-/

/-_**A Few Days Later **_

Deanna sighed and stepped away from Salizhan's desk. She wasn't there, undoubtedly out stretching her legs. Getting something to eat. She deserved the break.

Her eyes drifted over all the faces. The dull faces. She hated being in there- dreaded it some mornings. She wanted to help; she loved to see some of them. But it was their condition that made it hard. And it was the weight she felt in there…

Not a weight of stress or pressure. Dr. Salizhan was under far more. It was this invisible weight that the void of emotions created. On Enterprise she was surrounded by emotions- it didn't bother her. At home or in the world, she was surrounded by disciplined Betazoid minds- she felt enough emotions.

But in that room… in that room, over two hundred people surrounded her and yet only four minds seemed to work. Only four people with emotions. That bothered her greatly.

Deanna squatted down before a group of children. Even in their conditions they had some understanding of companionship. Her eyes skimmed over their faces. She knew most everyone there- especially the children. T'Ez and Kerry had come the second time.

Then her eyes settled on the new face. Round and young. A teen. He was in the prime of his life, that room was not where he should have been. "Hi there," she said softly, smiling at him. She glanced down at his chest. "Jonathon. Or do you like Jon?"

He didn't say anything. He didn't even do anything to show he heard, much less understood her. But she still smiled and talked anyway. Deanna was convinced that somewhere in there they understood at least the gesture.

Jon- she decided he was a Jon- looked away. It was the door opening. He heard the sound but didn't seem frightened by it.

Salizhan walked in, glanced around, and walked to her desk. Five minds. That was all she could feel. She knew which belonged to whom.

And she knew that the majority of the stress and concern and exhaustion was the doctor's… and she knew what was on her mind. She didn't have to be a telepath like the rest to know that there were too many people, not enough room, not enough doctors, not enough nurses, and not enough of knowledge. They needed more than what they had. They just couldn't get it.

/-/-/-/

/-_**The Following Day**_

"Good, good. Now how's the weapon coming?" Slowly he looked up at Ken. "Well?"

Ken's eyes were focused on the corner of the office. Amen glanced at it, but realized easily that Ken had nothing to say. "The weapon?"

"Yes? Your report?" Amen watched his right handed man, a growing frown on his brow.

"Well… I don't feel that I'm prepared to give a report at this time."

"Then go get prepared."

Ken nodded slowly. Amen rose a brow, shaking his head to dismiss Ken. It took a moment for Ken to catch on and then he turned away. Amen sighed, falling back against his chair.

It took ten minutes of wandering and a few more of confused roaming before Ken descended down the flight of stairs.

Keithers glanced up from his console and grinned up at him. "Mr. Smith." Keithers creased his brow. "Mr. Smith?" The man finally looked over at the doctor. He rose and took a step around his console. "Can I help you with something?"

"Do you have anything to report?"

"Not much. Just that we think we've fixed that problem with the transport mechanism." Keithers looked up. Ken just nodded, eyes unfocused as if he wasn't truly processing anything. "Would you like to know what was wrong?"

"Uh… yes."

Again, the doctor just nodded, opening his mouth to start. It hadn't been all that difficult to fix. The problem was that they hadn't been looking at the right place. It had taken them time to spot. Fixing it was the easy part.

Keithers had a feeling though that, as he spoke, nothing really made it much past the Ambassador's ears. He nodded at key intervals, interjecting monosyllable words at other times. The Ambassador seemed distracted, but then Keithers knew he wasn't all that interested in the on goings of the doctor's particular work. "Okay. Thank-you."

"Nothing else?"

Ken shook his head and walked away. Keithers watched him a moment. He sighed, shrugged, and turned back to his work.

/-/-/-/

/-_**April, A Few Days Later**_

"Liz, stop pestering your brother."

Deanna groaned, looking away from what she was doing. Her hand reached up to rub her temple.

"_You seem distracted, Deanna."_

She looked up at her mother, startled. Forcing a slight smile to her lips, she caught her mother's eyes and knew she wasn't fooled. "Just tired."

"_I don't think so."_

Deanna sighed, going back to clearing the table. Her mother rarely spoke at all aloud. She wondered how she had any voice at all when she was around non-telepaths. Perhaps it was her escape from the Consulate.

"_Speaking aloud all day is very tiring." _Deanna smirked. _"Now what's on you mind?"_

"You could just read it." Lwaxana's brow rose. Deanna knew that look. _"There are… nearly one-hundred and fifty people living in a space fit for a maximum of one-hundred. There are another fifty doubling in private rooms. For every forty patients we have one doctor and one nurse. Ten people!"_

"_I know"_

Deanna looked away from her mother. "We need more people. We need more room. Supplies. Research-"

"I know." Lwaxana sighed. _"I wish I could help, but-"_

"But what?"

Deanna looked at her mother. Lwaxana had turned away; she sighed and closed her eyes. _"There's a war, Deanna… but I'll try."_

"That's all I ask for."

/-/-/-/

/-_**Around the Same Time**_

The holographic projection spun around, lights and markers displaying where ships were. Riker's eyes followed the green line marking the separation of the old Federation. Lights flashed, blinking on and off, following the path of the attacking ships.

Riker leaned back into his chair. He sighed, eyes still staring at the screen even as he felt them glaze over. He wasn't sure any longer what the other Captain was saying. He was proposing an attack plan- Riker had already decided it was a bad move and his mind was on other things.

Things like going back home… he didn't know when exactly Lwaxana's house on Betazed had become "home" and home stopped referring to his quarters on _Enterprise_. Perhaps around the same time that he realized that he didn't look forward to returning to the lonely, empty quarters.

"Will?"

"Hmm?" Riker snapped his eyes up to the others around the table. Jayton was looking at him, concerned at his lack of response.

"Your take on it?"

"Oh." Riker sat up straighter, planting his feet flat on the ground. "Um…" he glanced down at his hands, an embarrassed blush coming to his cheek at being caught unprepared. "I don't know… I'm still not sure."

The Captain nodded and looked away, moving his eyes to Keating's form. Riker continued to watch the man instead, letting out the slightest of sighs.

He thought of Jayton as someone could trust and confide in. He knew that the Captain had had his reservations in the beginning about him but Riker had actually enjoyed it. Kept him on his feet with someone watching him. And over the years Riker wanted to say that that relationship had evolved into a mutual respect and perhaps friendship. Riker had even helped get him a new ship and the rest of his crew to stay together. It had been the least he could do for the man. And the _Fitzgerald_ was a good ship.

Riker glanced up when he saw the lights change in the corner of his eye. They had moved on from their strategic planning. Numbers blinked and changed, displaying things he was too tired to think about.

"Ships along the border are over due to be replaced."

"It's only been four months-"

"You try staying in the same place for four months without anything to do and say that."

"I have and I am."

"Four months," Jayton interrupted, "is long enough. I'll have my first officer figure out the rotation. If that works for you, Riker?"

Riker just nodded at his name. Maybe accepting Data's offer to come would have been wise. But Data wasn't aggressiveenough. He didn't know how to win the important fights. Not that he was doing any good half-asleep and not paying attention.

He just leaned back into his chair. Taking the stylus in his hand, he flipped it around his fingers and tapped it tunelessly on his thigh.

Another hour passed but he heard almost nothing and remembered less.

"Alright," he said suddenly, catching the room's attention. "I think it's about time to pack up."

"Yeah. Uh, tomorrow we'll pick this up?"

Riker nodded, rising. "Tomorrow."

/-/-/-/

/-_**Trill, The Following Day**_

She shifted. The seat was uncomfortable despite its appearance. Sitting for hours with nothing to do didn't help.

Pell moved, turning restlessly. She had tried to fall asleep, but her mind was too clouded with other things. Too focused on the past days to drift off, even for a moment.

A small moan escaped her throat and she tried to move again. No position was comfortable. She could feel the annoyed glared in her direction but she just ignored them. What did she care what they thought?

She shifted again, her head resting against the cool window. Hazel eyes starred out at the dark vacuum. Space, stars, all seemed so lovely from a planet surface. But in space- traveling through it- it seemed so lonely. So empty…

"_I wish you didn't have to leave so soon."_

_Pell sighed, letting her lips curl into a smile. "Me too. But I have to. Things are…"_

"_Yeah."_

_Pell's hand reached out, caressing Ayla's cheek, her cool hand gently stroking the wet skin. "I promise to see you soon."_

_Ayla smiled, nodding as she swallowed back her emotions. "There are many things to worry about now, Pell. Worry about them first."_

She missed Ayla. It had only been a few hours, but she already felt the two years of separation slipping back- overriding the four weeks spent together. Her past loneliness and pain were already sinking back in. Already reiterating themselves into 'normalcy'.

It wasn't right- wasn't fair- to be kept away from her own wife.

But that was what war did. It had a way of tearing familiar apart. Of pulling people apart.

No, it wasn't fair. It was war. And that was just how it was…

Pell picked her head off the window. They had dropped out of warp. She could feel it before she saw the stars return to normal.

Her mouth opened to call the old uniformed man. He worked on the shuttle- he had been the one to help her to her seat. But there was no reason to say a word for he was already approaching her.

"Ambassador. Could you follow me?"

"Why? Why have we dropped out of warp?"

"Please come with me. They'll tell you in a minute." Pell watched the old man mad reluctantly agreed.

/-/-

Hmm… so a lot going on with this bioweapon… And I wonder how Ken managed to get a date?

Sorry again about being so unpredictable about posting a pre-written story, but I promise that I'm going to try to get better about it. Please, drop a review and keep your eye out for the next chapter!


	15. Year 6: 2377, continued

_Author's Note: _Hey there again! Not much to say other than, here's the next chapter, hope you enjoy!

/-/-/-/

/-_**Unknown**_

"Rise and shine!"

A low groan erupted from his throat. He turned onto his stomach to muffle his groan and protect his stomach. A second kick to the back forced him from sleep.

Slowly uncurling himself, Picard flattened his hands on the ground, using them to push himself up. He felt the pressure of a boot against his neck, shoving his face onto the ground. He let out a cough.

Hands grabbed his loose clothing and pulled him onto his feet. Picard's face was brought right up to his attacker's. The man's eyes were dark grey and showed no emotion- no pity, no mercy, and no contempt. But he was also the same guard that had woken him every day for- well Picard didn't know how long.

The guard wrapped a hand around Picard's arm and pulled him out the door. Picard closed his eyes in shock at the bright light.

Carefully he blinked them opened and looked down the long hall. He blinked again, noticing another figure down at the other end. He couldn't tell who it was, or what. But, slowly as they grew closer, he could see the two figures better.

One was a guard. He wore the same black uniform as the one holding him. His hands pulled on a woman's arm. He watched her. She had dark, brown hair. It was flat and oily. He was sure that it had once been lively. He caught her eyes. They were dark. But they were also haunted; he suspected that his were the same.

He watched her, certain that somewhere in his mind he knew her. Somewhere. But the memories of other places had long since escaped him and so he watched her go.

/-/-/-/

/-_**A Few Days Later**_

"Commander, this is all a part of the big plan."

"And what, precisely, is this plan? I only ask because I have lost ships for an attack plan I know very little about."

Amen smiled, shaking his head at the young man. Then he sighed. Placing his hand over the wall panel, he asked, "Shall we take a walk? We can speak-"

"I'd prefer to stay in here."

Amen nodded slowly, taking in the look of dismay on the Mikolian's face and then the sight of the garden beyond the forceshield. It was no mystery to him, no puzzle to be solved. He knew Jaron hated the walks through the gardens- that was half the reason he made him do it. The other half was because he never said no.

This one seemed to be one step brighter. "Okay…" He drew in a large breath of air. "I can't tell you the plan. It's very complicated. But you have a sharp military mind. I'm sure you'll see it before long."

"I'd rather understand it now."

"Again," Amen just shook his head. "I can't. I'm sorry. Now was there anything else?"

Azia turned, keeping his green eyes on the President as he retreated behind his desk. Azia had noticed during his short time with the Human that he often did that when he felt overwhelmed or on the verge of being proven wrong. He used the large desk as a shield and reminder of who he was.

"No, Mr. President."

"Good then. You're dismissed."

Commander Azia held his spot for a lingering moment. Then turned and marched out.

The Mikolian was no idiot. He knew something was… peculiar with the Human President. He thought something was peculiar with all Humans, but that one was… he didn't know. He wouldn't say insane. But something…

He knew as well that Amen had no "big plan". At least he didn't see it. All through out the time he served under Commander Jaron in Federation space, he had mulled over every action in his mind. He could find no connection between them. No reason for many other things. All he could assume was that there was none.

He thought on some days that, perhaps, that was the plan- to have no plan at all. But that made little sense.

Some actions he understood.

Some he understood but saw no reason for. Easier means could have accomplished the same thing.

Some things made no sense at all. Connected with nothing. Served little to no purpose.

He didn't understand the war he was fighting. He didn't understand Amen. And he didn't believe anything related to either would help his world.

/-/-/-/

/-_**A Week Later**_

Deanna stood in the door. Her heart sank watching her daughter walk so gloomily.

Liz rolled onto her bed, rearranging the stuffed animals and pillows and blankets to get comfortable. Deanna only walked in once her fumbling was done.

Slowly Deanna sank onto the bed, adjusting the covers over Liz's body. Pushing an annoying strand of hair from her eyes, her hand brushed over the girl's cheek. She could feel the emotions playing in Liz's mind.

"Where's daddy?" Liz whined, "He said he'd come."

Deanna sighed. As much as she wished her husband could be there that day and as much as she missed him, she hadn't expected him to make it. She almost wanted to be mad at Will for making such promises to the little girl.

"He said, Liz, that he would try."

"It's my birthday," the girl cried, crossing her arms over her chest. Her lips formed a pout. "He promise!"

"I know, I know." She sighed once again. Will had promised. He had promised to be there for her birthday. Gods, she was already seven. It seemed like yesterday that she had been born. Her first birthday… that was so long ago now. Even Chamberlain was growing far too fast.

Deanna looked up. She sensed someone just beyond the door. Their movements were quiet and slow. Not Lwaxana's and not Mr. Homn…

It was Will…

The door opened, a smile on her lips. He too wore a smirk, but placed a finger over his lips, telling her to remain quiet.

Deanna's gaze shifted to the little girl. She was curled up in her blankets, eyes already half closed, tired from the days events. But Deanna could sense a growing confusion in her mind.

Suddenly the girl sprung from bed, surprising her mother. Deanna could see her eyes visibly light up. "Daddy!"

"Hey there." He said with a slight groan as Liz's form crashed into his legs. "Miss me?"

"I knew you'd come."

Will smiled, squatting down to pick her up. Her small arms were already wrapped around his neck. He chuckled lightly. "I wouldn't miss this day for the universe."

/-/-/-/

/-_**A Few Days Later **_

Lwaxana sensed someone's approach just before she heard the soft cough. She didn't look up, instead she merely said, "I am very busy. If you could find my aid, I am sure that he will be more than happy to assist you."

"Actually, um-" She looked up, raising an annoyed eyebrow at being interrupted in the middle of her work. "I am your aid, ma'am." She looked up and the Trill swallowed, quickly saying, "Ambassador." She eyed him slowly. He stood awkwardly against the doorway. "Mr. Lowry left three hours ago."

"Oh, yes that's right." She looked back down at her PADD, loosing interest almost immediately in the young Trill. "Was there something else…?"

He stepped inside slowly, glancing around the office. Looking up, he said, "Tayd. Remember?"

"Oh, yes, Todd!" She stood almost instantly. "Yes, how was Trill? Did you enjoy your stay?"

"Oh… yes." The man nodded, sighing. "Um, and it's Tayd."

"Tayd. Yes, yes." She sank back down into her chair, waving him off.

"I, um, wanted to know what you needed done?"

"Done? I need a lot of things done, Todd." She looked up at him. He sighed; the battle wasn't worth it. "But you can start with these."

"Yes, m- Ambassador." He thought he saw the slightest of nods but then she turned away, taking a small stack of PADDs in her hand.

"Here. I need these delivered and in that order."

"Of course."

Lwaxana looked up at Tayd, the Trill glancing the PADDs over. "Do you need an invitation to leave?"

"Oh. No, Ambassador. I'll get right on this."

"Good." Lwaxana looked away, listening to his steps. She grinned internally; he would be running around for hours with that.

But her glee quickly faded when the memory of her meeting came back to her. With a sigh she organized her desk and rose. Taking what she needed, she stepped out.

Another smile- a real, outward smile- came to her lips when she noticed a familiar figure turn the corner.

"How was the vacation?"

"Hmm?"

Falling in step with her friend, Lwaxana smirked. To be young and in love. "Trill, Pell. How was it?"

"Good," the woman said with a nod, saying nothing more.

"And Ayla?"

Pell glanced over at Lwaxana briefly. "Oh, she's… she's doing well."

"'She's doing well'?"

Turning the corner, Pell merely ignored the comment. Her pace was just slightly faster than Lwaxana's. The Betazoid's brows meet with the realization that she had noticed such a thing. They had worked together for so long that they seemed to naturally walk in step.

She turned her head. Pell's face was set with inattention, not an expression she adopted very often. Lwaxana's brow furrowed further when she noted how dull her friend's emotions were.

Bland. That was never a word she associated with Pell.

Lwaxana sighed as she stepped inside the Council Chambers behind Pell. One other thing to further her concern. Pell liked to watch her enter- she often commented on how it was always "with a flourish". She quite enjoyed remarking later about how to change her entrance.

Pell seated herself slowly next to T'Pel. There was something different about her… something. Lwaxana just didn't know what.

Mentally shaking her head, Lwaxana stepped around the table.

/-/-/-/

/-_**Betazed**__**Around the Same Time**_

Tayd sighed. Ambassador Troi had him running in circles.

Deliver this one first and this one second… of course the Denobluan ambassador was across the compound. And the Dekarian ambassador- who was three complexes over- wasn't there. His aid took it for him…

Had he only known he would be spending years running errands- and reports and messages and PADDs- and other odd things it might have swayed his choice to Starfleet.

But Starfleet was no longer available. Though other programs had opened on Trill and an extension of the Academy still existed on Vulcan, Betazed, and Bolius. He heard one was being built on Vigo, now with the Vigolians members of the Alliance Council.

"Vigolian… Vigolians are… Complex Six…"

Complex Six was on the far side of the compound. Not all that far from the main building, but over a kilometer from Complex Nineteen.

Tayd sighed again.

It was his last stop and then he could return to the main building. He knew, though, that Ambassador Troi would scold him for the amount of time he had taken-

She should try complying with all her commands…

He supposed that that was why she was like… well, how she was when it came to things relating to him. The Ambassador probably had been an aid to someone who… well, gave many frustrating orders. She most likely understood that one had to be committed and hard working to survive.

That or one needed to develop a very thick skin in order to survive the world she lived in.

The world he would live in if he could survive her.

/-/-/-/

/-_**A Few Days Later**_

"Gin tal. Gin tal!"

Julian smiled down at his son. He was mastering the Trill language. Even used the Bajoran phrases Kira had taught him all the time. But when it came to English, he wasn't half as good.

The doctor sighed, leaning back onto the couch. He kept one eye on JJ, the other searching out the PADD by his hand.

Language was such a difficult thing in the modern days of the twenty forth century. Not consciously- it wasn't something really thought about it. But if one sat down and thought it through… Julian never really thought about the fact that people don't always talk in English.

Julian knew- if he thought about it- that many of his friends and colleges spoke a different language. His wife didn't know any English at all.

A universal translator at the base of his brain allowed him to translate what they said to him. They, in turn, had one to translate what he said. Not really that complicated at the most basic level.

"Da! Da!"

Julian looked up from his musing. JJ was wearing a dimpled smile as he proudly displayed his toy block.

"Vin my blai!"

His lip curved up in a smirk. He usually spoke in a mixture of English and Trill. "Yeah. You have a block. Is it blue?"

"Nooo!" One of his few words he knew well. "Blai gween!"

"Yeah, it's green. What color is the other block?"

JJ looked at him for a moment, then stuck his hand back out, showingthe green block. "No, the other block."

The boy looked down, smiling and picking up the one by his knee. Julian glanced at the out stretched hand. "What color is that?"

"Gween!"

"No, the other one is green. This one is…?"

"Dlin!"

"Purple! Right!" JJ smiled at himself and looked away.

Julian sighed, turning back to his work. His mind wandering back to his earlier musings. He realized that it was thinking about learning a language that made it complicated. The translator needed to attach to a base language, which meant learning a language.

But that became harder when you can hear hundreds of them around you. Supposedly Trills were better at learning under such situations. Humans weren't.

But he didn't mind that his son would learn Trill first. He did mind just a little that his son probably wouldn't have his accent but he was getting over it.

With a sigh, Julian put down his PADD. "Come on, kid. Bed time."

/-/-/-/

/-_**May, Three Weeks Later**_

Slowly she eyed the numbers, biting her lip unconsciously in thought. Her eyes darted briefly up to catch the other three laid out.

The android to her left rose an eyebrow at the odd clicking noise she made with her tongue.

Then she sighed, repeating the earlier motions. First at the numbers before her, then the one near Data.

She glanced up at the engineer. He was watching g her impatiently but said nothing.

Then Crusher turned her eyes back down, making another clicking noise.

Data opened his mouth finally, but she stopped him. "I fold."

"Finally." Crusher gave Geordie a sharp look, only satisfied by the fact that he had the decency to look embarrassed.

"And the pot goes to the dealer."

The doctor shook her head as she looked down at Data's hands pulling the colored chips. He stacked them enough to get them out of his way. Then, picking up the cards, he shuffled them. She watched with envy as he shuffled them in his own super-human way.

Bending the tips of her cards, Crusher forced down a smile. "I'm in." They went quickly around the table- it was only three people and Crusher had to admit that she had never played with so few people before. But with Worf gone and Deanna gone and Riker-

"Where is Will? I thought he was coming tonight." Geordie shrugged before throwing in his chips.

"Captain Riker choose to remain on Betazed."

The doctor shook her head. "Should of brought Deanna with him. I call. Would have been nice to see her again before we leave."

"Probably wants some alone time. We're not staying much longer."

"That's true." Crusher glanced at the three face-up cards. "What are those called again?"

"The flop. And now the turn."

The doctor sighed, looked at her cards and sighed. She shook her head and tossed her cards into the middle. "Nah, I fold."

/-/-/-/

/-_**Around the Same Time**_

"Do you really have to leave?"

Will played with her hair, pulling it together and brushing it over her shoulder. Both hands lingered over her shoulders, gently caressing the bare skin. He peppered kisses along her collar as she spoke.

"I'll be back in two weeks."

"I know."

Deanna leaned back into the sensation, her back resting against his bare chest. Her hair fell into his face as she titled her head back.

Will let his eyes close at the contact. His arms wrapped around her out of habit, pulling her close. He buried his nose into her hair, each breath gracing his senses with the fragrance that was purely Deanna.

"I wish I didn't have to go."

"You could always put Data in charge."

The soft chuckled breath was hot against Deanna's sensitive skin. "Wouldn't he just love that! The other Captains sure should."

"Well some of them send assistants and their subordinate."

"Yes, but I don't think they would look too kindly on my doing so."

Deanna nodded, refraining from voicing her answer. Her hands had found their way to his while they spoke. Her thumb rubbed the calloused skin. Her eyes looked down, first at her stomach where their hands were, then to the twisted sheets tangled around their legs.

"I just wish you never had to leave."

"We knew this was what was going to happen."

"I know… that doesn't make it any easier."

He sighed, catching one hand in his. "No it doesn't."

"You'll be back in two weeks?"

"Two weeks… Fourteen days."

"Two weeks sounds better. Sounds shorter."

"Alright then," he said, kissing her jaw, "I'll be home in two weeks."

/-/-/-/

/-_**June, A Week Later**_

Fire.

Smoke.

Sparks erupted around his head. Riker coughed, flushing as much smoke from his lungs as he could.

A buzzing in his ear was bothering him, but he didn't know the source. Riker shook his head.

He turned around, eyes catching the flashing of red lights.

"Shields down to seventeen percent. Torpedoes bays are depleted." The Lieutenant's voice was barely audible through all the noise.

Riker nodded. "Hail the others, tell them we're outta here."

"Aye, Captain."

/-/-/-/

"The _Enterprise_ is pulling out, Captain."

Captain Keating nodded, then turned her attention back to the viewscreen. Three Mikolian ships and four Federation. They had started with four, now they were down to two.

"Keep firing, Ensign."

"Ma'am, our shields are too low. I don't recommend staying."

Keating sighed. But she had no time to respond before a sudden wave of torpedoes hit their haul.

Her ship took a sudden nosedive and she was thrown forward. For just a few moments she couldn't remember what was going on. For just that moment she couldn't see anything. There was a ringing in her ears, but after a moment she realized that it was Cole was talking in her ear.

Her unfocused gaze ground her Helm officer's. With one hand to rub away the warm moisture from her forehead, the other took his offered hand.

Keating forced a smile but then it vanished. Her eyes widened. She opened her mouth, barely able to force out, "Cole, get u-"

/-/-/-/

"Data?"

Riker's voice was calm in the silence. The android looked over at his Captain, knowing what he wanted to hear.

With the shortest pause- Riker would disputeData if he told him it had only been thirteen point seven two seconds- the android announced. "The battle is over."

"And?"

Data, if he had been Human, might have sighed at the question. He might have even risen from his chair. But he did neither. Instead he rose his eyes to find Riker standing facing him, the viewscreen a backdrop behind him showing distant clouds of space dust and two lonely ships beside them.

"The _Zeus_ is gone, sir. The Federation has taken the GaliosSystem." Riker let out a sound Data had no direct word for. Not growl but not a groan. Too harsh for a frustrated sigh.

Data paused, his brain taking only seconds to calculate what he would do next. He stood, walking up to his Captain. "There is no hope of us retaking the system today, Captain. We should leave now."

Riker could see his first officer out of the corner of his eye. The android's voice was soft, as it could be from time to time. But Riker had a feeling that in that mind of his, he was already deciding what needed to be repaired.

With a sigh, the Captain of the flagship turned to look out at the others flankingthem. He gave a curt nod. "Get us out of here."

/-/-/-/

/-_**The Following Day**_

Kira sighed as she bound up the stairs, her hand tapping briefly against the buzzer. "Come in."

The door slide opened for her and she stepped shortly through, glancing around, noting that the office was what a Human might call organized chaos. She had heard the Chief say that once. But the expression suited their Captain- her Emissary.

She knew that, for the most part, he hated the title and everything that went with it. But that didn't stop her from thinking of him as such, or even feeling honored when in his presence. She had gotten better with it, at least. After his serious head injury during a firefight years ago, they had gotten much better at talking to each other, they even spent time together outside of work.

"Yes, Major?"

She glanced up at him. The Captain had looked up from his PADD and was now watching her expectantly. "Oh, just wanted to give you my report."

"End of the shift already?"

"Yes, sir." She stepped forward, putting the PADD into his outstretched hand.

"So did you hear?"

"Hear about what?"

A slight wave of his hand invited Kira to take the seat beside his desk. "We lost the Galios system the other night."

"The Galios system? Isn't that our major suppliers of Tritonion?"

"Yeah." Sisko sighed, rubbing a hand over his face as if that would expel the signs of exhaustion. His hand ran over his bald head, stopping to rub the back of his neck. Then he sighed and leaned back. "It's in Federation control now."

"How are we going to get it back?"

Sisko just shrugged at her question. "Don't know. We'll probably mount a counter-attack. Hopefully it won't take too long… we can't afford to go too long without Tritonion."

The Bajoran just nodded. After a short moment of silence, Kira let out a slow breath. "How's Jake doing?"

"Hmm? Oh… he got… a contract with some paper or something."

"You don't sound all that impressed."

Sisko looked sharply up at his Bajoran officer. "No, quite the opposite. I'm proud."

"Just not exactly what you wanted for him."

The Captain shrugged. "I don't know. It's better than seeing him this war."

/-/-/-/

/-_**A Week Later**_

"See 'dat? 'Dat is a river. You can't get too close."

Will smirked. He looked over at Liz with amusement. Chamberlain was barely two, she just turned seven, he thought it was cute how she was trying to teach him what he had just taught her.

"This is Alaska right?"

His gaze turned away from his two children. Deanna twisted at the waist to smile back at him. He nodded and she looked away. He knew she was looking back at the half-hidden cabin.

"Yep. Same place."

"You never told me about his program."

"I only made it last year."

She nodded and turned back toward him. Will let his smirk fall into a content smile as Deanna stroked his cheek, leaning against his chest as she looked over at their children. "It brings back good memories."

"That's why I like it."

"You've been teaching Liz to fish?"

"I thought she might like it." Will smiled, saying, "She has her mother's luck with it."

"You still can't believe that I caught that fish, can you?"

"Not really, no." He paused a moment, watching as both Liz and Chamberlain dipped their feet into the cool water, "How's your… hospital coming?"

"Pretty good… we could use more people-"

"You're lucky you got building materials."

"We know." Deanna sighed. "It's good to be back here."

"In Alaska?"

She let out a snort. "On Enterprise, you idiot!"

"Right."

/-/-/-/

/-_**Two Weeks Later**_

"There is no power in Section Two-"

"Yeah, keep-"

"Did you hear me?"

The uniformed man let out a long sigh. Slowly he turned, displaying his green uniform, better showing his position as an Alliance engineer. His green eyes were clouded with annoyance as he glanced the Vigolian over.

"Yes, doctor, I heard you. You didn't happen to notice that I was speaking?"

"Yes, Commander, I did. Quite frankly, I don't care."

The Lieutenant Commander groaned, glancing at the Ensign watching their conversation. He looked back out Salizhan. "You know I only listen to you because I don't actually know which of us outranks the other."

She smirked. "You know, I was promoted three days before you. That means you have no choice but to listen to me. Now, I have no power in Section Two. I have fifty people being moved in there tomorrow! I need power tonight. Can you handle that?"

Salizhan hid her satisfaction when she saw him straighten, swallowing down his remark. "Yes, ma'am."

"Never call me ma'am, Commander. Dismissed."

The Commander shook his head, spinning stiffly and walking away, the Ensign following behind.

Once they were around the corner, Salizhan let the corner of her lip tug up into a smirk. But suddenly it vanished as she remembered the rest of her long to do list.

The doctor turned and walked back down the hall. She let her eyes wander over the walls, committing every detail to memory. It was hers. She was in charge- of at least the medical staff.

She and Deanna had worked for months fighting for that facility. Ambassador Troi had been a great resource. They had fought for their staff to be quadrupled- they had settled for just over double. Twenty-six. It was a start.

They had fought for a private room for everyone- they gotten private rooms for the hopeless causes, others were double up. A third section was made for them to stretch their legs and interact. They had wanted four sections- they had only gotten three.

But Salizhan was happy with it. It was what they had wanted; they would keep working to make it better. But what they had was good for then. When the war ended, they could get what they needed. But who knew when that would be.

/-/-/-/

/-_**July, A Week Later**_

"Captain's Log. Stardate, 37706.04.

"We lost… seven ships this week." Riker sighed, rubbing some of the weariness from his eyes. Massaging the back of his neck, he groaned, frustrated.

With a deep breath, "We can't keep losing people like this. We can't… to be honest, I don't think that at this rate we're going to win… I don't know, the Mikolian ships seem… harder to beat or something. They used to be… I wouldn't say easy… I don't know…"

Riker let out a groan, running his hands through his hair. "I, uh… I don't-"

"_Excuse me, sir. A transmission from Ambassador Troi."_

Riker sighed; nodding even though he knew the Lieutenant couldn't see him. "Thanks. I'll take it in here."

The lieutenant gave a short reply and the Captain sighed. Settling down into his chair, he straightened his jacket and took a deep breath. Lwaxana's set face appeared on the screen. It was so unlike what he was used to seeing. War did that to everyone.

"Ambassador."

"_I thought we had discussed this, William. It's Lwaxana."_

"Right, sorry. Is there something I can do for you… Lwaxana?"

She nodded slowly. _"I haven't been getting the most encouraging news from the front."_

"That would be because there hasn't been the most encouraging news around here."

The Ambassador sighed. _"I know." _Then she glanced away from just a moment. Riker watched over the small screen, seeing her nod to someone off screen and hearing a soft reply. The Betazoid looked back. _"I was just hoping to get another opinion."_

"I don't have one." He shook his head. "I'm sorry. It's not looking too good out here. I've lost too many ships already… How are things on your end?"

"_Not good. Nothing at all is being accomplished."_

"Sorry to hear that."

She sighed. _"I'm starting to feel desperate enough to propose an alliance with the Klingons."_

"The Klingons? … Might help."

Lwaxana shrugged. Riker nearly smirked; he had never seen her do something as nonchalant as that. _"Might."_

Riker nodded, letting the silence fall over them, his tired yawn breaking it. "Sorry."

"_You have earned the right to be tired. Now I should go. It was good talking to again."_

"Hey… send my love to Deanna, Liz, and Chamberlain."

She nodded._ "I will. Now you get your sleep."_

"Goodnight."

"_Goodnight, William."_

/-/-/-/

/-_**Unknown**_

It was hard to believe.

No, it was nearly impossible to believe.

Time had long since become an abstract idea to him. But his body still seemed to know something of time. He knew it had been seven days- a week- later that he saw her again. He hadn't expected to. He had hoped a day after, and the second day after. But he hadn't seen her.

Picard looked up at the door as it swung closed.

He had seen her again. It was the twelfth time. It had been twelve weeks then since they had first seen each other.

Every day he pushed back into his brain, looking for her face. But he couldn't find it. Two others came to mind. Betazoids…

It had taken him weeks to understand that she was one as well.

A strange prickling at the back of his mind finally made sense in that moment.

He didn't know how many Betazoids he had known… he couldn't remember… but somehow he knew what she was doing.

If he sat still enough, and was quiet enough, and stopped thinking enough, he could hear a whispering. The first time he had looked over his shoulder, frightened that he was truly losing his mind.

It was the second time that he had stopped enough to listen. He could imagine that it was her voice, sometimes he envisioned her face when she spoke.

She never said much at all. That or he didn't hear correctly. But he loved to listen to her voice. That was enough most nights, to fall asleep to a friendly voice.

/-/-

More kids in this chapter! And Tayd is my favourite! Anyway, hope you enjoyed and please leave a review. Anything you want to say, really, would be appreciated.


	16. Year 6: 2377, continued again

_Author's Note: _Hey, back again! Thanks once again to those who read and reviewed! Hope you enjoy!

/-/-/-/

/-_**September, Two Months Later**_

"Well the dropping mechanism is finally working properly- only took three times to get it right. Yes, I know you don't care much- probably don't even know what I'm talking about- but I just thought I'd talk to you.

"You know, it's nice to talk to someone who won't bother speaking back at you or interrupt you. That's what I like about you. You just sit there and listen- well, I'm not so sure you listen. But you still sit there and let me talk and I like that about you.

"Oh… excuse me."

The beeping from the computer console had caught his attention. Dr. Keithers turned away, eyes skimming the contents. "Good, good," he said with a nod, his voice purposely mockingly the one he heard the President use so often.

Keithers turned his head to look at the other man in the room. "This is all about you, you know. Very important stuff… nothing I haven't seen over the past two years, but still important. Very important."

Again the console beeped. Keithers sighed, then shrugged, then looked back at the screen. "No sign of infection. No trace of the pathogen. All good."

He looked at the muffled sound. "Now, now. Don't whine. You know I have no patience for it. Well, maybe you don't know. I'm not entirely sure what you do and don't know. And as I said before, you're not much for conversation. Don't expect you to be telling me this sort of thing. Ah well…

"Let's see here… looking good. Lookin' real good."

Keithers sighed. He slumped back in his chair and spun it with his feet until he was facing the other man. Empty eyes watched him indifferently at him, unblinking and unwavering. Brown hair was grown long, his face was unshaven and his hair oily and unbrushed.

The doctor just shook his head. "What am I going to do with you Commander Paul?"

The Lieutenant Commander looked at him for a short time. Then he blinked.

/-/-/-/

/-_**Three Weeks Later**_

"We're losing, they're winning. The Federation might have split almost right down the middle but they have all the ships. All the people who work the ships!"

"Shut up, Pok!"

The Bolian was startled into silence. He looked over at Lwaxana as she sat at the head of the Chamber's table. Her head was in her hands, her elbows against the table. She gave a slow, dramatic sigh before lifting her head.

"I don't want- don't _need_ people who are going to rant about how we are already dead! How we've already lost! Fix your attitude or I'll find someone else with a good one. We're not losing, we're just not winning."

Pok gave a stiff nod, slouching some in his chair. He looked away from the Betazoid, his eyes focusing on each of the three other Council members around him.

First they fell on T'Pel. Typical Vulcan- stoic and rigid in her seat. But he knew the Vulcan behind the mask- she was a real rebel. Skipped Saturday meditation to go explore Betazed. Pok would never admit to her how he knew this.

Slowly his eyes shifted away, falling onto Moricz. Vigolians were strange creatures in Pok's mind. Their eyes were too creepy- not as much as Zaraxians but enough. And the scales and the half blue hair- it was a little too weird. Moricz- a male- even had a kid. Like went through pregnancy and all… Strange lot, Pok had decided.

But the only thing weirder at that table- in Pok's opinion- was Pell Lynn. The Trill herself was normal enough, as normal as joined Trills go. But lately she had seemed… off. Different. Distant. She didn't even enjoy rolling her eyes or arguing with Pok and that meant one of two things in Pok's mind: either trouble in paradise or… something else.

"Have you even been listening, Pok?!"

Pok's head shot around, eyes finding the fifth member of the Alliance Council. Lwaxana Troi. Now she was interesting all in herself. Being Betazoid just added to the interesting make-up that was Lwaxana.

"Of course I was."

"Then what was I saying?"

The Bolian took a breath, glancing at T'Pel before going back to Lwaxana. "The… war?"

Lwaxana's eyes slipped close in frustration, a hand going to massage the bridge of her nose. "And what else, Pok?"

"The war… is… bad?"

A chuckled escaped Moricz's lips, but he quickly composed himself.

"The Klingons, Pok! The Klingons!"

"I was getting there."

"Well I'm so glad that _you_ were getting somewhere because this Council sure isn't. I was saying that the Klingons would make good allies!"

"Ally ourselves with the Klingons? That's absurd!"

"Well it's better than anything else we have."

"But the Klingons!"

"I agree with Pok." Silence fell over the table for that split second as every head turned to Pell.

"You do?" came from both Lwaxana and Pok. The Bolian glanced the woman over. Something else was definitely wrong with her. In all the time that he had known her, she had never, ever agreed with him.

/-/-/-/

/-_**October, A Few Days Later**_

"'The valiant efforts of the _U.S.S. Defiant_'s crew forced Federation starships out of the Galios system-'" The Chief looked up at the other around him. "Jake Sisko sure makes us sound good at this, doesn't he?"

Julian smirked. "Aren't we, though?"

"Oh, please, Julian." Dax sent a glare her husband's way. "Keep reading, Miles."

"Right. Uh… 'The Alliance- after four months of interrupted progress- is now able to restart their Tritonion mining efforts on Galios Prime. While the planet had originally been the main source of Tritonion for the Federation before the break-up, they had broken away with the Alliance.

"'Those four months have put a large hole in the Tritonion stores but because of the _Defiant_ and _Minnesota_, engineers say they are moving- however slowly- back to normal-'"

"Well, Chief, you'll be happy now. We all know how crazy you've been going over this."

Mile snorted, giving his friend a smirk. "Yeah. Glad that's over. With a fresh stock of Tritonion- courtesy of the locals of Galios- we'll have no more replicator restrictions."

"Amen to that!" Julian cheered, raising his glass.

"Finally we can get some repairs done."

"I was thinking more along the lines of food and such. Not to mention medical supplies." Miles just shrugged.

"Is there any more, Chief?"

Miles glanced at Dax before his eyes found the PADD again. "Um, yeah… 'the occupation of Galios created a drop to nearly thirty-one percent production of the Tritonion.

"'Tritonion, as most know, is the essential compound in creating almost anything with a replicator. What was left of the ore had been given only to building yards and certain medical facilities.

"'This past month has been difficult on most Alliance fleet personnel- almost all of whom have already experienced rationing of replicator use-'"

"He's telling us?"

The Chief smirked. He had been left without anything to fix his ship and spacestaion. Julian was left with little to treat his patients with. They all knew the difficulties. Especially poor Quark… complained for days when he was temporarily shut down.

"Uh… there's some political stuff. We already know that. And that's about it. Oh, of course, 'Article written by Jake Sisko'."

Jadzia grinned as Miles turned the PADD around for them to see. "You should see the Captain. He's so proud of his son. Still disappointed about Jake not entering the Academy but…"

"Probably relieved now," Julian commented, "with the war and all."

"I guess."

"It's a scary thought realizing how close your child almost came to… to being apart of all this."

Julian nodded. "Who know, he might still have been on Earth when this all started."

"Or on an Earth-loyal ship."

"Could we change the subject. Turning a little too morbid for such a good day."

"Very true, Chief. What do you want to talk about?"

Miles took a sip from his mug, shrugging his shoulders. "Well I hear the weather's very nice on Bajor this time of year."

/-/-/-/

/-_**A Few Days Later**_

"Chancellor. There is a message for you. It's from the Alliance Council."

The Klingon's nod was curt as he took the datarod from Martok. He said nothing, turning and putting the rod into the console.

"_Chancellor, this is Ambassador Troi of Betazed. Our grievances with the Federation over the past few years have been no secret and I have no doubt that you know of them. You must know, as well, our current state of war with them…_

"_We know you are at war yourselves with the Mikolians. We also know why. The Alliance Council has obtained information you may find interesting pertaining to the Mikolians and Earth. _

"_The Council wishes to invite you here under a diplomatic truce-"_

Gowron's hand shot down, stopping the recording. "If they are inviting us into their space, then they either have something of great value or are more desperate than I ever would have thought."

"Perhaps both." Martok paused, then asked, "Will we go?"

/-/-/-/

/-_**A Week Later**_

Lieutenant Steel let out a low whistle. Commander Sampson smirked at the Lieutenant's reaction to the view before them.

The Commander stepped around the console, walking slowly around his listening post. It was quite the sight, he'd give that to the young Human.

"Never thought I'd live to see the day that Klingon cruisers arrived at Betazed on a mission of peace."

The Commander smiled over at him. "Me neither, Lieutenant, me neither."

"You don't think they'll fire, do you?"

Sampson's view turned to find the Human female. She was young and new but, so far, she was pretty damn good. "No, Ensign. They're Klingons. To attack without reason would be unhonorable."

"Shields are down. Phasers remain uncharged and torpedo banks are unloaded." The Commander's focus moved to the owner of the voice, then he nodded at the Vulcan when he spotted her.

"Sir, they're opening torpedo banks!"

"Calm yourself, Ensign. It's a Klingon tradition of showing respect and strength." He then turned to Lieutenant Steel. "Please remind all ships to remain as they are. We don't want any jumpy tactical officers."

"Aye, sir."

/-/-/-/

/-_**A Week Later**_

"Something interesting? I have been waiting with bated breath for nearly a week."

Lwaxana smirked across the table at Chancellor Gowron. "I apologize. Did you know that Earth- and in effect the Federation- are allied to the Mikolians?"

Gowron seemed to pause. Then he leaned back and glanced up at one of the Klingons standing behind him. "No, I did not know this."

"Well it is true. We have evidence of this if-"

"That is not necessary."

Lwaxana just nodded. She looked over at him, watching the thought behind his eyes. Oddly, she'd never worked much with the Klingon; it made it just that much more harder to read him.

"We'd like to propose an alliance between our two people. It only makes sense- our cooperation will benefit everyone. Chancellor-"

"No." Lwaxana's words stopped suddenly with the Chancellor's abrupt statement.

"And why not?" Moricz asked, shaking his head. He looked to Lwaxana and she nodded, urging him on. "We share a common enemy. A common goal."

Chancellor Gowron huffed, looking away. Lwaxana watched what she could see of his face- it was somewhat blank with thought. She waited, unable to help but notice duller emotions.

Klingons were a passionate people. Their emotions erratic. But he seemed calm, collected. It intrigued her. Especially knowing some of the Chancellor's history.

Pell caught the Klingon's eye. Lwaxana noticed the exchange but paid no attention to it.

Finally Gowron turned back to the Betazoid Ambassador. "Very well. Your… Alliance may be full of weak beings, but the Federation has proven its worth before. An alliance between our people will be reached."

She bowed her head respectfully. "Thank-you."

Gowron rose suddenly. Lwaxana did the same, surprised but covering it. The other four around her stood as well. She glanced quickly at Pell- she was surprised that she hadn't said much. "I will have Martok remain here. Good day, Ambassadors."

"Chancellor." The word echoed on three lips. Gowron's curt nod was the last thing he did before he walked out of the room.

Lwaxana felt herself release a breath when he stepped out the door. "Well… that went better than planned."

/-/-/-/

/-_**A Few Days Later**_

"Fire, you idiot!"

Captain K'Tagk growled, slamming his hand on the armrest. He stood, shouting at his new tactical officer, "Are you incompetent!? Move out of my way!"

The young Klingon stumbled back, his head bowed in embarrassment. K'Tagk however paid him little attention, punching madly at the console, commanding the ship to fight their attackers.

He glanced up at the viewscreen. The three Mikolian ships were firing, their phasers cutting more easily through the ship's shields than expected.

Photon torpedoes hit their haul, doing nothing more than pestering them.

K'Tagk growled once again, a low rumble that seemingly filled his bridge. He hit the console again, sending another wave of photon torpedoes into the underside of the lead ship. It tore right through their haul, ripping the ship apart effortlessly.

K'Tagk grinned at his own achievement, many of the others around him grinning as well.

"Sir! Another ship approaching at high warp!"

K'Tagk huffed. "Klingon?"

"No, sir." The Klingon at the Helm looked up. "A Human ship."

Another growl escaped the Klingon's throat. His eyes fell upon the screen, watching the starship drop from war. "Keep firing!"

/-/-/-/

"Target their undersides, Lieutenant."

The Lieutenant nodded. Riker turned away, eyes back on the screen. The lead ship rocked awkwardly under the stress of the torpedoes. Volley after volley bombarded the ship.

_Enterprise_ rocked violently.

Finally three torpedoes managed to strike the underside of the second ship, imploding in on itself.

The Lieutenant continued his volleys, each striking the Mikolian shields.

Riker put out a hand, catching himself before he fell. The _Enterprise_ shook again, Riker vaguely heard the Lieutenant yell out the shield strength.

He watched out the viewscreen as the Klingon ship held their own. They seemed to have caught on to the other ship's weakness and targeted it. The ship appeared to crumble, falling apart more than exploding suddenly.

"Hail them." Riker put a smirk on his lips as the screen was activated, saying once he saw the dark Klingon face, "Thought you could use a hand."

"_You are in Klingon territory, Human."_

Riker nodded with a silent snort. He glanced over his shoulder at Data before he said, "Yes, but haven't you heard-"

"There is nothing to hear, Human! For assisting us, I am grateful. I will spare your life in exchange. Leave now, Human."

"There is no more Neutral Zone," Riker finished as if the Klingon had said nothing. "Not the way we're used to it."

K'Tagk snorted, visibly laughing. "No Neutral Zone, Human? What trickery is this? I should kill you for such a thing."

"What honor would there be in destroying the ship that saved yours."

Another low growl came from K'Tagk. Riker nodded to himself. He hadn't forgotten his time on a Klingon ship.

"Leave, Human." The screen turned blank, returning back to the image of stars and the Bird of Prey.

Riker sighed, smirking as he turned around. "Pleasant bunch, aren't they?"

/-/-/-/

/-_**Around the Same Time**_

"An Alliance with the Klingons?"

"Yes, sir."

Amen slumped into his chair, head down and eyes searching the floor. "No. No, this is not good."

"Sir? Are we not already fighting both?"

Amen glanced up at the Mikolian. The President thought for just a moment- in his weariness he had forgotten that it wasn't Jaron who was supposed to be there. Jaron was dead and this mere child- this Commander Azia- only looked like him. Nothing more, nothing less.

"Yes. But you should know this is different. Now they will combined their efforts- their people and supplies! It could be a disaster."

Azia stood as stiffly as he always did. Making no movement in spite of Amen's disarray. "Do you have something to propose?"

"What?" The Human glanced up from his hands. "Oh…" his head nodded slowly, then suddenly he pushed himself from the desk chair. "Yes, yes… we will negotiate a cease-fire. An end to the war."

"But, sir, we're-"

"Winning? Yes. But not for long I fear."

"Updates to our ships are almost complete-"

"And with a cease-fire, you will have as long as you need. Then," Amen stepped around his desk, approaching the Mikolian. "With time and no war raging on, we can build as many ships as we need. Collect as many supplies as we need. And then, once we a ready… you can strike them hard. They'll never know what hit them."

Azia's head turned slowly to the Human. His lips showed no sign of the nefarious smirk that Amen's did and his eyes were not bouncing with childish amusement. "If that is what you think best for our worlds, Mr. President."

/-/-/-/

/-_**December, Two Months Later**_

The mood was melancholy on Earth. Not so much for the people of Earth for they were still blissfully unaware of their government's action. Rumors of course had spread, but it was nothing more than that. A rumor, nothing more.

No, the only melancholy around were those who knew they had lost the so-called war. President Amen was the only one who seemed to have retained his euphoria.

It was moments before Amen would leave Earth. In a few hours he would be on a ship with the Alliance Council. In less than a day, the war would be over.

But the very opposite was true for the Alliance fleets. They were ecstatic. Parties on nearly every ship. Many planets were hosting Alliance fleet personnel if they had no post to immediately tend to.

Deep Space Nine was filled to its capacity with its inhabitants and guests. Music played over the intercom, live musicians playing on the station.

Quark's bar was for more crowded than usual- much to the delight of the Frengi. The Promenade was packed with officers and civilians dancing shoulder to shoulder and drinking and eating and simply being merry.

_Enterprise_ was no different. Ten Forward was filled with mirth. Glasses were filled, laughter and music rang in the air. People spilled out into the halls, dancing and enjoying themselves.

Their Captain even surprised them with a visit. He surprised himself by doing so.

But days later on Betazoid, the excitement had worn off for Captain Riker. For him, the days had been long and sleep simply wouldn't come when they decided to end.

On Betazed, he wondered the halls of his mother-in-law's house. He had become well acquainted to insomnia while on Enterprise. He had taken to wondering the halls, checking in on any who were still awake. There was no different- he had even noticed that Mr. Homn seemed to never sleep.

Another habit that had developed in his insomnia was finding his way to his ready room, finishing reports and logs. On Betazed, he adapted, often wandering to Lwaxana's study. She hardly stayed awake so he didn't worry about interrupting her.

"Captain Log. Stardate, 37712.10," he began five nights after the official end of the war.

"The Alliance-Federation cease-fire is holding it seems. Of course the Klingons are less than happy. But they have stood down as well. That's all that matters.

"I'm still not sure what had possessed President Amen to go to the table. Who knows? But I'll bet he has something going on… something… He was winning. I hate to admit it but he was. There was not reason.

"Oh well. This 'war' is over for now…"

He sighed, spinning the chair around. It was Lwaxana's study. He remembered Deanna saying something years ago about how she once considered it her mother's sanctuary. No one but Lwaxana and the occasional close friend entered it. Deanna even said she hardly knew what it looked like.

Riker suppressed a laugh. A statement like that didn't mean much when it came to a room in the Troi residence Riker himself noted that something was out of place every time he came.

The curious thing was that he never saw Lwaxana- or even Mr. Homn- move anything.

He sighed. She had told him that he could use her study as long as he didn't interrupt her work. He hadn't even asked, but she had offered.

_Enterprise_ was taking a long deserved shoreleave; some personnel were being shuffled around.

At times- ones when he was relaxing or with his family- were times he felt so guilty. All those others- even people like Jayton and Collins- were stuck on the border. Even most on his own ship rarely saw their homes and families.

He tired to convince himself that they didn't see it that way. That they understood how closely he had to work with the Council and that meant frequent trips to Betazed.

He thought that, but it didn't quench the guilt. Didn't make him stop feeling like a stranger among his own crew. That's why he stayed on Betazed for most of the trip- he couldn't shake the feeling of alienation when among his crew.

Riker sighed, pushing himself from his chair. "Computer, end log."

/-/-

Hmm... peace talks... curious...

Hope you guys liked this one. I'm hoping to get back onto a better schedule, so keep your eye out for Year 7. Please review and tell me what you think.


	17. Year 7: 2378

_Author's Note: _Hey, finally got the next one up for you guys. Hope you enjoy the next year...

/-/-/-

**Year Seven: 2378**

/-/-/-

/- _**December**_

There was nothing more she could say. Nothing more she could think to do.

So Lwaxana fell back against her chair, breathing out a sigh of relief as she watched as the Federation delegates leaving.

It was over. Done. Finished. The whole thing was no longer her problem.

The last hellish year of war had ended. A new year was beginning soon.

That would bring all new headaches. New problems. Lots and lots of new problems.

But that was the next day and all the days after that. It was still that day. The day she- and some others- ended the war.

She pushed the chair back from the table. Her eyes skimmed over the scene before her.

Four tables formed into a diamond. The five members of the Alliance Council had sat at the one farthest from the exit- but they had a good viewout the windows. The Klingons had sat to one side, the Mikolians on the other, and the Federation Council- consisting of only Amen, Ken, and two other Ambassadors she didn't know- had been across from her.

"Todd, you don't have to do that."

Tayd glanced up at her and shook his head. "It is not a problem, Ambassador."

Lwaxana spun around in her chair. She and Tayd were alone in the room. She didn't know why she wasn't moving faster. Enjoying the sweet taste of victory perhaps.

For that matter, she didn't know why Tayd was still there. He was good. Smart. Cooperative, even. She had never heard him complain, though she had sensed his annoyance but he hid it well. In many ways the young Trill reminded her a lot of another from his species.

Pell had once had the same job as Tayd held. For two years she worked with Lwaxana. The Betazoid had gotten her a better job later- she tried to be modest, but Lwaxana took all the credit for where Pell was at that moment. Pell, of course, hadn't been Pell then. Lwaxana actually didn't remember her family name, but she remembered how much she had changed after her three years working to get her symbiont.

"Are you joined, Todd?"

"Uh, no. Don't plan on it."

"Why not?" Lwaxana swiveled around to look at him. He shrugged, continuing to shuffle the PADDs together.

"Never wanted to. Still don't."

She let herself nod. Where her thoughts were leading her, she was unsure. She thought maybe they were just straying away from where they were trying to go to: the growing unease she had about everything at that moment. A lot of things had been bothering her for varying amounts of time.

But she didn't want to think about them all at that moment.

"Let's get out of here, Tayd."

Tayd nodded, smirking. She glanced his way as she rose. From the look on his face and what she sensed from him would suggest that he didn't realize that she really knew his name. She just thought he looked more like a Todd.

"I don't have anything else for today, do I?"

"No, Ambassador."

"Good. You can go back to your room then. Relax."

She looked over at him. He was nodding, distracted by his notes on the PADD in his hand. Lwaxana smiled again. He worked hard- too hard sometimes. But he would be brilliant one days- as long as Lwaxana could teach him how to mix work with pleasure.

"Did you hear what I said?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"I don't think you are paying attention or else you wouldn't have called me 'ma'am'."

"Hmm?"

Lwaxana stopped in front of him, causing the Trill to run into her. He stepped back and finally looked her in the eye. Lwaxana put her hands over the PADDs, taking them from his custody. "Go back to you room. Get out of here."

"You sure?"

"Yeah, go. I'll be fine on my own for a little while."

"Thank you, Ambassador."

"Call me Lwaxana. It's about time that you did."

He nodded, glanced at the precious PADDs in her hands and then turned away. With one last look over his shoulder, he walked away.

Lwaxana watched him go for a short time, just until he was around the corner.

Slowly a smile formed. Then her head nodded of its own accord. He would be brilliant one day. Just like Pell.

The Betazoid turned and walked down the opposite hall. Rounding the corner, Lwaxana stopped. She backed up, half hiding.

Ken Smith was exiting a room down the hall; President Amen would undoubtedly be right behind. She certainly didn't want to be stopped by either at that moment.

But it wasn't Amen's figure that appeared after him. Instead Lwaxana was surprised to identify the figure. Pell walked out behind, wearing no smile but harboring nothing of an irritated expression. It was odd… no, more than odd.

The two said their final words in hushed tones and then broke off in separate directions. She took a breath and turned around, walking away from what she had just witnessed.

/-/-/-/

/-_** Around The Same Time **_

They were sitting and starring again. He hated it.

They did that a lot lately, it seemed. It was better than fighting every time they met. But sitting on the border with two ships to flank you and three starring back at you, it felt just as bad.

Riker sighed, leaning back into his chair. He could be home on Betazed. Could be spending time with his wife and children. He didn't need to be there, babysitting the Federation-Alliance border.

"Any changes?"

"Nothing, sir."

He nodded and sighed. Then, gripping the arms of his chair, he pulled himself out of it. "I'll be in my ready room." He turned and looked at his tactical officer. "You have the bridge… Lieutenant Kerry."

His head shook subtly as he turned around. Kerry was his fourth tactical officer in the past seven months. None of them seemed to stick around for long… none of them were Worf and Riker was pretty sure they understood that to some level.

Taking a few steps, Riker's gut told him it was pointless to continued forward. He paused and looked back at the Lieutenant. The man's mouth was opened, ready to call out to his captain.

"Sir! There's a… a Borg sphere."

"How close?"

"Three minutes away."

His mouth went dry. Riker looked back to the viewscreen. Three Alliance ships, three Federation. Not much else nearby. Six starships were no match against a Borg ship.

"Open a channel to the lead ship. The _Jamestown_."

/-/-/-/

/-_** Around The Same Time **_

"The_ Enterprise_ is hailing us."

Admiral Hill nodded. His precise pace brought him across the bridge in five languid strides. He rested comfortably back in the Captain's chair. The starry field on the viewscreen was replaced with the image of Captain Riker. His face was solemn as he nodded his greeting.

"_I'm sure that you know by now… Admiral, that there is a Borg sphere only a minute away."_

Hill glanced at his tactical officer. The man nodded curtly. Hill quickly covered his ignorance and looked Riker in the eye. "Yes, of course I know that."

"_We need to work together. Admiral, it is in both of our interests-"_

The Admiral watched Riker turn away to one of his officers. The Borg ship was nearly on top of them. He thought quickly, making his decision before Riker turned back around.

With a simple motion, he told the communications officer to cut the link. "Helm, get us out of here."

"Admiral?"

Hill looked over at Captain Sayers, the normal Captain of the ship. Confusion was written on his face. Hill shook his head. "Captain Riker was wrong. Staying and helping is not in our immediate interest."

"I don't understand."

He glanced the Captain over. "Let the Borg deal with Riker. We'll deal with the Borg later."

/-/-/-/

/-_** Around The Same Time **_

"Captain?"

Riker turned, his eyes catching the last Federation starship jump to warp. "Ah shit." Taking a quick breath, he shook his head. "Get Commander Data up here. Now!"

"Yes, sir."

A shaky breath passed his lips. He swallowed hard. Three ships… and the Borg sphere.

His heart pounded in his ears. The reaction never changed no matter how many times he went up against one of the vessels. The skeleton-like structure. The black.

Riker was hopeless to close his open mouth as he watched the blue and white swirl erupt in front of his ship. He had seen the Bajoran wormhole open only a few times but he could think of only that sight to describe the scene before his eyes.

The perfect shape of the Borg sphere shot out from it. He watched, heart pounding in his chest.

He sucked in a breath of air, intending to yell out his orders. But his eyes were caught by the vague green glow, his mind seemingly unable to keep up with more than one command.

'Fire' was on his lips. He formed the word, but it made it no farther. No sound passed his throat and Riker watched instead as the scene play out.

The sphere shook. Small eruptions riddled the ship. Flames appeared, consuming the vessel from the inside out, compelling it to crumble in on itself. The vacuum of space extinguished the fire quickly, leaving the dark smoke to form a thick haze around the debris.

Riker's gaze didn't falter. He didn't know what to believe. The ship hadn't looked damaged in the slightest…

A ship zoomed out of the smoke, halting before his ship. Intrepid class he could tell. But it had an odd looked to it. He wasn't sure…

"Should I hail them, sir?" Riker nodded, unsure if any words had left his mouth.

It didn't take long for the image of the ship to disappear, soon to be replaced by its bridge. The lighting was dark, dim from battle readiness. Consoles sparked, the evidence of a fire was easily seen in the corner. Red lights flashed in the background, ignored by all.

Riker's eyes skimmed over the familiar sight, finally settling on what he could only assume was the Captain. She was a slender woman, perched confidently in her chair. She rose slowly at the sight of him. He noted that she wasn't overly tall but that she was hardly short.

_Enterprise_'s Captain glanced her over; able to see the pride and poise that was had made her her ship's captain. But the other side of Riker was able to see the rest of her.

He noted the fallen locks of her amber hair. She wasn't one to sit idly through a battle. He noticed the smug of black residue on her cheek. The rip in her uniform- an older style of Starfleet's but still recognizable. And lastly he saw her eyes. Dark green. They were filled with such a conflict of emotions. He wondered what she must be thinking to see his own uniform. Did she realize he wasn't Starfleet? Did she realize what year it was?

"This is Captain Riker of the Alliance starship _Enterprise_," he said after a short pause, "Who are you? And where the hell did you come from?"

She looked startled for just a moment. But she regained her composure with the ease of an experienced Captain. _"I am Captain Kathryn Janeway of the Federation starship Voyager_._"_

"The _Voyager_ was destroyed seven years ago."

"_No… it will all be explained in my report."_

Riker glanced over his shoulder at Data- where the android always seemed to migrate. Looking back to the screen and the unknown Captain, he nodded a curt nod. "This I would like to hear."

/-/-/-/

/- _**March, Three Months Later**_

Riker sank into the chair. The movement was clumsy. He did not like the conference room chairs. They were stiff and uncomfortable and, every time he was in one, he knew he would not be leaving it soon.

A sigh escaped him just before he pushed himself back out of it.

He scratched his bearded chin, searching his brain for everything his staff had told him. It had been nearly three months since the _Voyager_ had returned from the Delta Quadrant. He hadn't spoken to any of them since they had first arrived.

Others had taken care of the legalities of _Voyager_- namely the Marquis. Riker thought back. That entire conversation with Captain Janeway had gone from bad to horrendous in a matter of seconds…

"_And… what about the Marquis? Did you ever find them?"_ Riker had looked up then to find Janeway's eyes. Confusion flashed in them, followed suddenly by a surge of fear.

"_If you have them with you, we can take them off your hands,"_ Riker had continued, his words faltering as he went on.

Riker noted that Commander Chakotay's mouth had opened as if he was about to speak, but his Captain's hand stopped him. The man glanced at her but had done nothing more. His glare returned to Riker, but his word had been stopped in his throat to allow his Captain to speak for him.

"_There is no need to "take them off our hands", as you so eloquently put it." _Anger seeped in her voice but Riker had misunderstood its incentive. _"They make up a third of our crew. They're no longer Marquis, but are loyal to myself and Commander Chakotay."_

"_They're not Starfleet."_

"_To me, that doesn't matter. They work just as hard as everyone else. They are treated and punished like everyone else. As far as I've been concerned for the past seven years, they're as Starfleet as I am."_

Riker sighed and shook his head. He was tired, he had a headache, and he didn't really care._"If you can control them, then they're all yours. We have more pressing needs to worry about than trying to accommodate them."_ His tone had been harsh, harsher than he had intended. Riker knew stress had hindered his empathy to Janeway's crew but that had been no excuse for his words.

"_It's not my place to ignore or change charges. This will be brought up with others with more authority in this matter than me."_

He had confronted her later. He had originally gone with the intent to apologize. Instead she had lectured him. He would admit that he deserved it though. He had known at that moment that her crew was too good together to break apart. _"I'll see what I can do."_

They hadn't started off on the right foot to begin with. But he had kept his promise with her and the Marquis were fine and free. Not that she knew he had had anything to do with it.

He turned when the door opened. Jayton walked through, followed soon after by Ivinch. He nodded at them and turned away.

Geordie and Data had briefed him hours ago. He had been kept up with the situation involving _Voyager_ but hadn't bothered with details until that day.

The _Voyager_ had somehow gotten ahold of advanced technology. Much of it was Borg- Riker had been surprised by the former Borg drones they had as members of their crew but held nothing against the two.

The rest was, they claimed, from a future version of Captain Janeway. He was skeptical but found himself scolding himself- was it not just a few years back that he too had been involved with timetravel and all the adventures that went with it? He met Zefram Cochrane for crying out loud.

He had to admit that all the advancements were amazing,. Transphasic torpedoes. Armor hauls. Advanced shields. Scientists were working on a way to replicate the technology. They were clueless, in Riker's opinion.

But if they could equip every ship with those things… he wouldn't worry about the Borg… or the Federation.

He sighed and looked over his shoulder at Jayton and Ivinch. They were talking quietly at their seats at the conference table. Admirals Pelzer and Woods would be there soon. So would Captain Janeway and Commander Chakotay.

The whole thing was really more a formality than anything else. They would ask a few questions, clarify some things in their logs, and then see where they stood in the Alliance. If they liked it all, they would formally request _Voyager_'s entrance into the Alliance Fleet.

He wasn't sure about them, though. Riker knew that their loyalty remained whole. They hadn't had to choose years before during the split. He didn't know any of them well enough to know what they would choose. But he had a feeling that whatever their Captain decided could end the discussion- officially any way.

The door opened once again, drawing his eyes to the entering figures. He sighed and approached his chair.

/-/-/-/

/-_** Around The Same Time **_

Kira walked through the office doors, encouraged only by Sisko's hand beckoning her in. She paused just over the threshold, waiting for him to finish.

"Yes, Admiral. Thank-you."

"_Good-bye, Ben."_

With a final nod, the conversation was over. Sisko turned his eyes away from the screen, finding the Bajoran watching from the other side of his office. "Come in, Major."

"You wanted to see me?"

"Yes. That was Admiral Jackson I was talking to."

"Oh, really? What did he want?"

The Captain leaned back into his chair, rubbing a hand over his bald head as he took her in. His fingers positioned themselves on his cheek, elbow resting on the armrest. Kira stopped in front of his desk, placing her hands behind her back, feeling awkward as he looked her over.

Then Sisko sighed and leaned forward. "He wants to station a crew of Klingons aboard." His voice was slow as he spoke; deliberate, as if telling her personal and far more painful words.

She reacted much as he thought she would. She nodded slowly in acknowledgement, eyes searching the floor as she thought his words. Then she looked up at him.

He thought she would at least yell or question or do something more violent than the response he got. "Sounds good. It's about time we start acting like we have an alliance with them."

"Okay. So… you're fine with that?"

"Why wouldn't I be? It's not like you just told me they want to post Cardassians here," she said with a smile and a shrug.

Sisko chuckled with her. In truth, he hadn't expected her to reaction like that. It wasn't that he thought of Kira as a bad officer or unable to take orders, didn't even think of her as insubordinate, she just had a history of disagreeing with him- sometimes with good reason.

"When are they coming?"

Sisko shrugged and shook his head. "In the next couple of weeks, I'd guess. And, Kira, they're not just going to be on their ship. Alliance Fleet expects us to train them with the Cardassian systems."

"Yes, sir. Anything else?"

The Human sighed, looking the Bajoran over once again. She didn't exactly like him when he first came aboard. And, truthfully, Sisko hadn't been all that excited to be spending what was originally a few months with her. But they'd grown on each other and he found that she wasn't as bad as he had first thought. None of his crew was. In fact, they were exemplary, the best in his book. But then every Captain said that about his or her crew.

"No. Nothing else, Major."

/-/-/-/

/-_** Three Weeks Later**_

It wasn't how he had imagined it. Life, that is. He had always thought…

He wasn't sure any more what he had once thought. All he knew was that what he was living wasn't what he had wanted.

Will's eyes glanced over the mirror image of himself. He thought some days that it was just his eyes playing tricks on him. Other days he wished that was true. That the world around him was his own imagination at work. Standing before his mirror, he knew that that wasn't true.

Eyes glanced over the new uniform, the design a mere few years old. His face was another story entirely. Wrinkles had formed that had not existed only a year before. Bags under his eyes had appeared a month ago and seemed to not want to leave.

Finally he noticed the last thing that shattered his mind's trickery theory.

Between two fingers he held it up before his eyes. A single white strand of hair. His first and surely not his last.

Then in an instant, his fingers flicked it aside.

Will turned away from the sight. With a sigh, he collapsed into his desk chair. "Captain's Log. Stardate, 37803.11.

"Well, _Enterprise_ has received new orders…" Riker released a sigh, smirking, "Finally some god out there has decided to like me. We've been assigned to Betazed."

Riker paused, spinning himself in the chair. He glanced around at his home. He hadn't really thought of that work connecting with the place he was looking at. Once home had meant _Enterprise_. It hadn't for some time though.

No, he was finally being allowed home. Finally returning to his family.

"As of this moment, I am not aware of any specifics of our assignment… I can only assume that we will be one of the eight patrolling her system."

He pushed himself from the chair, taking short strides across the room. "We, um… Computer, delete last two words."

"_Words deleted."_

He nodded to himself, stepping into the doorway of his bedroom. He peered inside, eyes glancing over the few possessions he had in there. His mother's wooden jewelry box, some knick-knacks and gifts… and some old and not so old pictures of his Deanna and his Liz and little Chamberlain.

"Computer, end log."

/-/-/-/

/- _**Around The Same Time**_

Deanna sighed softly, the wind taking it away into the darkening night. Her eyes moved up to the sky, the bright dots catching her attention. She slid her eyes closed at the feel of the gentle caress.

"You look tired."

"Just a little." She sighed, eyes flittering open. "Join me."

She shifted on the bench to allow him to sit down. Deanna leaned in against him, resting her head on his shoulder.

"So, uh… _Enterprise_ has a new permanent post. Well, permanent for six months, anyway."

Deanna sighed, the noise not able to penetrate the night gusts of wind. "Where?" Her voce was sluggish, betraying her lack of interest.

She was too tired to pay much attention. Her eyes were refocused on the stars. Deanna didn't realize that he had moved until she felt the warmth of his breath against her ear. "Right here."

Deanna paused a moment. _Enterprise_ had been posted all over Alliance Space. From their make-shift station _Shadowland_ to the boarder, Trill for a while, Vulcan for a few weeks, and back and forth to Betazed. She had enjoyed his periodic excursions to Betazed. But, for a reason her brain was too tired to fathom, she had never thought that he would be posted near her planet.

As the news sunk into her fatiguedbrain, Deanna pushed away from Will to find his eyes. They were gleaming with elation. "How?"

He smirked. She could hear him laughing, but it wasn't aloud. "_Enterprise_ has the largest Betazoid crew."

"Yeah," she rolled her eyes, "All four of them."

"Five, actually. And it's not like they tend to cluster together."

"That's because Betazoids have never been overly interested in Starfleet to begin with. Alliance Fleet is no different, especially since they've been fighting a war."

She paused, resting her head back against his shoulder. "So… you're here for the next six months?"

"Yep. We have to go back to _Shadowland_ for a few days. Then we'll be back here… in about two weeks… and while I'm here I'll have to actually spend some time on _Enterprise_, but I should be able to visit a whole lot more often."

She smiled, sighing contently in his arms. "That's good."

"And, you know, you and the kids can come up whenever." Her brain was too tired to be bothered to contain her laughter. Will chuckled with her. She knew it wasn't at his own words, but could sense it was something else. Some untamedjoyhe was experiencing.

"We should be going to bed."

"Mmm," Deanna muttered into his arm. "Yeah… I have to go to work early."

"What for?"

She shrugged. "Sal said she had something interesting. Said I should come in early if I could."

"Sal?"

"Dr. Salizhan. She's impressed that she finally got me to call her that."

"Akay. Come on."

"Am I moving?"

"Do you want me to carry you or something?"

"I'm getting up! I'm getting up… am I moving yet?"

"No."

"How 'bout now?" He just gave that same chuckle and shook his head.

/-/-/-

/-_** May, Five Weeks Later**_

Lwaxana smiled down at the little girl as she sat between her legs. Lwaxana's fingers twinned together the little girl's hair, twisting and pulling the fine brown strands to form an elegant style. The eight-year-old smiled into the mirror, enjoying the experience.

Lwaxana looked at her reflection- her brown curls and mother's eyes reminded her of Deanna at the age. However, unlike the one in front of her, Deanna had never enjoyed having her hair done up pretty or to wear the silk clothes and attend fancy functions as Lwaxana had often made her do.

But Liz, she loved to have her hair fashioned by her grandmother and slip into the thin, soft silks of Betazed robes. Liz even loved the attention she gathered at the events Lwaxana brought her to, presenting herself as both a kind, respectable Betazoid as well as the clown she truly was.

"There you are, my dear. Go show your mother. I'll be down in a moment."

"Okay, gamma." The little girl hopped down from the bed, running from the room more gracefully that Lwaxana had expected considering her dress.

She sighed, smiling faintly at the memory of her grandchild. And, though she smiled, she was not looking forward to this particular event at all. President Amen had been invited- out of necessity only- and was almost surely to bring Mr. Smith. Just as long as the child didn't cross paths, she would be content with them being there.

Lwaxana walked from the room, following her senses to find her daughter. Deanna sat on the living room couch, PADD's and transparent reports sprawled out over the coffee table. Liz stood in between her mother and the table. She gave a clumsy twirl, flaunting about her hair and clothes. Deanna smiled, watching the customary display.

"You look positively beautiful!" Deanna said with a smile, finally looking up to see her mother. "You did a marvelous job."

Lwaxana smiled at the compliment. _"I did, didn't I?"_ She knew Deanna had rolled her eyes even though Liz blocked her view.

"Can mommy come?" _"Please! Come, Mommy!"_

Lwaxana smirked. She didn't know why Deanna always insisted on speaking aloud to Liz. She refused to admit that not doing it would impede her abilities. Deanna said she did it to stimulate her speech because, in the world they live in, she needed to respect other, non-telepathic races.

Now and again, her daughter had the audacity to scold her for speaking telepathically constantly in the house.

But that wasn't why she smirked. She was more amused by the way Liz often confused herself, switching back and forth between speaking aloud and telepathically. She found it cute.

"Okay. Time to go."

"You're leaving?" Lwaxana smiled up at the voice. Will stepped in through the garden entrance, Chamberlain supported on his hip. "Do I get a hug before you leave?"

"N- yeah!"

Lwaxana smiled, crossing her arms as her granddaughter ran up to her father. Will bent down, wrapping an arm around her. She chuckled when she hugged Chamberlain, the boy giggling when she kissed his cheek.

"Alright. Time to go."

"Have fun." She heard from Deanna.

With a smile, she held out a hand to Liz. Both gave a wave. Lwaxana smiled when she heard the hushed, "Bye, bye, gamma."

"_Good-bye, Chambe."_ She heard him giggle in her mind, as he often did when she spoke in his. _"Off we go."_

/-/-/-/

/- _**Around The Same Time**_

Lwaxana smiled. Her granddaughter was certainly a charmer. Her shy smile and awkward speech just wrapped every diplomat and reporter it around her tiny finger.

She laughed as she saw Representative Jai and his wife- she could never recall her name- chuckling at something Liz had said. The Ish'veniz looked up at her and smiled, saying telepathically, _"Lwaxana, your granddaughter is absolutely delightful."_

"_Gets it from her father, I'm afraid."_

"How is Captain Riker?"

"Home," Lwaxana said aloud, turning her attention to Jai's wife. "Doing better now that all this is just about over."

"That's good."

"Oh… will you excuse us?"

"Of course," she said with a polite smile at Representative Jai. She really did hate these things. Lwaxana would almost admit to bringing Deanna and Liz just to distract the attention from her. And what could she say? Liz enjoyed it. It was grandma, granddaughter bonding time.

"Lwaxana!"

She smiled, bobbed her head at the group. Taking Liz's hand, she walked the girl around to their table. She hadn't been happy about the arrangements when she discovered that she had to sit with Zidana Jentu, Pell, Emperor Trelz, and President Amen and Ambassador Smith. She had kept a calm face, disturbed that Liz would be sitting with the two Humans. Neither Deanna nor William would be happy about the situation, but she had decided that they wouldn't find out about it.

Pell was already seated, speaking with the Emperor about something. They were rambling on about something in Trill. Lwaxana ushered Liz into the seat beside Pell, sitting in the chair on the other side of her. She was determined to at least keep her as far away as possible from the two men.

"Good evening."

Emperor Trelz smiled at her. "Hello," he said, his voice strained from the translator. Then he smiled down at Liz. Lwaxana knew that he had no children but was almost certain that one of Trelz's past hosts had had a few. "Well hello there, little one. How are you this fine evenin'?"

Liz giggled. Lwaxana could sense that it was because of the odd cadence his voice held. "Fine," she drawled out, her shy shrug half of her answer.

"Is this lovely thing your granddaughter, Ambassador Troi?"

"Lwaxana, and yes." Running a hand over Liz's back. "She's my little girl's." Trelz smiled and nodded. Oh, Liz had strung him with one word, Lwaxana thought.

Lwaxana shifted her gaze onto Pell. She was quiet. She had slowly become more vocal- returning to normal, if you could say that- but she was still so distant. It concerned Lwaxana and she didn't know how to offer any help.

After a moment the Trill forced a smile to her lips- at least it felt forced- and looked at the little girl. "Hey, Liz."

"Hi."

"How do you like it so far?" Liz shrugged. Lwaxana shook her head. Liz had her father's way with words.

Lwaxana looked away. She smiled at T'Pel. The Vulcan offered a curt nod.

Moricz stood awkwardly behind his world's leader's chair. It was customary to recognize authority on his planet by standing until the food was served. Or something to that effect. He had explained it once to her. She would admit to not really paying attention.

A frown pulled at her lips. She could sense him… both of them. They were approaching the table. She took a deep breath and turned back to Pell. She couldn't ignore them all night, but she would ignore them for as long as she could.

Her eyes slid closed as she mentally prepared herself. It wasn't so much for her career or reputation, it was for Liz. Her granddaughter didn't need to get the wrong opinion of the situation.

Her eyes opened and she knew President Amen was right behind her.

/-/-/-/

/- _**Around The Same Time**_

The night progressed slowly. Lwaxana kept up polite conversation with Zidana Jentu- mostly political things. She spoke between Pell, Emperor Trelz, and Liz. The rest of the time she ignored and redirected as many of Amen's questions and comments. Lucky for her, Ken Smith had lost his talkative nature after, it seemed, his time with Amen.

Lwaxana nodded with Emperor Trelz. "No, I must agree. The settlement on Keltrais has been far more lucrative than anticipated."

"Yes, but now that they have finally settled down there, the Zaraxian Government is going to force them out."

She shook her head. "The Council has sat in on several meetings with the Zaraxians and a promising agreement is already being created."

Lwaxana's gaze passed between Trelz and her Zidana, the leader of her world. Then fell on the girl next to her. Liz was trying hard, she could tell, to fight the urge to sit on her knees and rest her elbows on the table.

Deanna had been worried that she would get bored in the mists of politics. But Lwaxana was delighted to find that every time she brought Liz along, the girl engrossed herself in every word spoken. Though Lwaxana knew she was unaware of what was exactly being said, she seemed to follow along at an amazing race.

Lwaxana also knew what the conversation on the way home would be. Liz never forgot questions she wanted answers to. She would spend hours figuring out exactly what she had over heard that night.

But the grandmother smiled. She enjoyed the challenge. She enjoyed molding her granddaughter to her career. Her only rival was Liz's unwavering interest in pulling things apart. She could sit and listen to anyone about how anything was made. Lwaxana was uncertain as to which held her interest longer.

"Excuse me for interrupting, but what exactly is this agreement with the Zaraxians about Keltrais?"

Lwaxana just barely hid her scowl. In the mist of the debate, she had been able to forget that the two Humans were even there. She ignored him, as she had all night, knowing one of the others- frequentlyTrelz- would answer.

She was surprised when Ziadana Jentu answered in such a clipped manner. "Just a trade agreement between the Zaraxian Government and the Alliance."

"Over Keltrais?"

"Yes."

Lwaxana looked over at Amen, lookinghim over for the first time that night. He nodded slowly, relenting. "You're not going to tell me anything, huh?"

"Not about this, no."

"Perfectly understandable."

"I am glad you see it that way."

There was silence. Lwaxana looked awkwardly down at her half-eaten dinner. She wasn't sure what to say to move the conversation away from where it had gone.

A tugging on her sleeve caught her attention. She smiled down at her granddaughter. _"You don't like that man?"_

Lwaxana glanced at Amen. Then back at Liz. _"No."_

"_He's weird."_

"_Yes,"_ she nodded with a smile, _"Yes, he is."_

/-/-/-/

/- _**Around The Same Time**_

Lwaxana glanced back into the room at Liz. The girl was smiling, sampling some of the Trill deserts with Trelz. She let herself smile, forgetting for a moment who she was with.

"Anything else?"

Lwaxana shook her head, turning her attention back to the aide. "No. You're free to go home."

"Thanks." Tayd nodded, looking up from his PADD. Lwaxana noticed him taking a second look down the far hall. "Um, isn't that the Earth Ambassador?"

"Ken Smith?" Lwaxana turned to look down the hall, eyes following the Trill's gaze. Sure enough, the Ambassador stood there in his pressed suit. Though his hands remained at his sides, it was clear enough that he was talking to someone. She kept watching, shocked when he turned to reveal his companion.

"And isn't that-"

"Go home, Tayd," she said too quickly, interrupting him, "I'll see you tomorrow."

The Trill paused with his mouth handing slightly agape Tayd looked over her, finding her eyes. They were hard, cold. He knew she used his name only when she was being serious or trying to do something nice for him- which meant not often at all.

Slowly he nodded, knocking the PADD on the palm of his other and. "Akay… bye."

She just nodded, a quick, terse nod. Letting out a sigh, he turned, brows raised, and walked away from the Ambassador.

Lwaxana watched Tayd for just a moment before looking back down the hall. Tayd was by far an intelligent young man, but disciplined he was not. She could read his thoughts hours before he said anything. And saying aloud that Ken Smith and Pell Lynn were talking together in secret was not something she needed.

Lwaxana sighed, watching as Pell nodded. Not pleasantly, but not curtly. She wasn't annoyed. Wasn't searching for a way out. Wasn't even just ignoring him and walking away.

That's what Pell would do. Pell's behavior over the past months had Lwaxana seriously questioning just who she was looking at.

And Ken. Well Ken wasn't all that annoying- at least not for that night. Didn't talk and his comments had lost all their edge.

It was then, suddenly, with the two so close together that Lwaxana noticed something for the first time. The listlessness, dull state Pell had so often been in was not limited to the Trill.

Lwaxana may not have liked Ken, but there was something about him that had always forced her to respect him on a political standpoint. But looking over at him, she didn't sense it. He had lost the spark. And he shared Pell's bland mood. For some reason, that unnerved her.

/-/-/-/

/-_** Next Day **_

"What did Ken want the other day?"

"Huh?"

Pell turned her head to catch Lwaxana's eye. The Betazoid fell into step with her, paying no attention to the Trill's outward confusion. "I saw you the other day with him. I assume he was being his usual charming self."

"Uh, yes."

"And?"

"And what?"

"And what did he want?"

"Nothing."

"Nothing?" Lwaxana looked over at Pell. Her old friend wasn't looking at her any longer; instead she was focused on the floor. It disturbed her how quiet Pell's emotions were lately. Had been since the day she returned to Betazoid nearly six months ago.

Not that, at that point, did she expect to register more than they had. Lwaxana was more concerned about the fact that her emotions had been equally as flat the day before.

Pell was as diplomatic and level-headed as they came, but Lwaxana had seen the Trill with that Human outside of chambers before. It was far from a pleasant sight. There was nothing but bad memories for Pell concerning Ken. Lwaxana didn't know exactly what they were but she knew what she had seen and felt in the past.

"Pell, you hate that man! I mean, you said yourself he was one of the deciding factors in turning gay- well, you being joined was but that's not important! But really, the only way you could have had a conversation with him would be if it was about something important. Now Pell, tell me what he wanted so we can not give it to him."

Pell shook her head. "It wasn't anything important. Nothing. He… he just passed me in the hall. Then we parted ways."

It was Lwaxana's turn to shake her head. She didn't believe the Trill. It would have been something for Ken to push through Pell's animosity and get her to listen to him calmly.

What ever it was, Lwaxana wanted to know. Needed to know. She just didn't know how she could find out.

/-/-/-

_Author's Note: _Hmm... wonder what's going on with Pell and Ken... Drop me a review and let me what you think.


	18. Year 7: 2378, continued

Sorry for the wait. Hope you enjoy!

/-/-/-/

/- _**Around The Same Time**_

"They have no table manners!"

"Oh, please! You have no table manners."

A round of laughter met Jadzia's tease. She looked over at Miles with a smile. He titled his head in hurt, but Jadzia knew it was only for show. She grinned wider.

"But really, Klingons are… there is no word to describe their… stench."

Kira nodded at Julian's comment. "They really do smell horrible. One works next to me in Ops." She shuddered, sending another wave of laughter around the table.

"Here are your drinks," Quark said loudly, interrupting the banter. The table looked to the Frengi, each taking something from his tray. "So when are more Klingons coming?"

"What? You like them, Quark?"

The Ferengi tipped his head to the side to regard the Major. Jadzia laughed as she watched the action. It was well known how Quark pined for the attention of both Kira and herself- though not half as much any longer since she married Julian and Kira became involved with Odo.

"Yes, Major," he said with his quirky smile, "I do like them. All they do all day is drink, eat, gamble, and use my holosuites." His eyes rose suggestively, but Jadzia dismissed it as merely a Quark think. "So, yes, I like them. They pay me lots and lots of money."

"Sorry we weren't good enough."

Dax smirked at the Chief, barely hearing Quark say, "Oh, your money is always welcomed," over the noisy Klingons that had just entered.

Jadzia glanced back to find the Chief and Kira still talking with Quark. The Ferengi's tray was tucked under his arm and he was shaking his head.

Dax just shook her head and looked away, her eyes returning to the Klingons that had just entered. They looked to be from the _ve'Q'Dej_. They were new, having just arrived a day or so ago. Dax hadn't liked the look of them from the moment they stepped aboard. They were the type hardened from deep space missions and hand-to-hand combat. They hadn't been off their ship for extended periods in nearly a year. Cabin fever and Klingons never made for a good combination.

"Ah, Quark?"

"Huh?"

Quark looked over at Dax's concerned voice. She wasn't looking at him, but instead his bar. "I think your newest best friend is about to start a brawl."

"Huh?"

"Over there, Quark!"

He looked quickly at what she was looking at. Sure enough two oversized, smelling Klingons were grunting and groaning at each other, arguing over whatever Klingons argued about. "Excuse me!"

Quickly he retreated from the table, tossing his tray onto the bar and stepping up to the two brutes. "Excuse me, gentlemen, gentlemen, what seems to be the problem?"

"He stole my money!"

"I did no such thing!"

"It is right there!"

"Gentlemen, I'm sure this can be taken care of in a civilized manner." Quark froze. His eyes were fixated on the knife suddenly in one of the Klingon's hands. "Ju- just put down the knife and we'll take about it. I'l-"

"Shut up, Ferengi! This is none of your concern."

"H- uph!" Quark grunted as he hit the floor, wincing at the bruise he was sure was growing in the shape of the Klingon's hand. He could hear the sounds of fighting from the floor. A glass shatter- he groaned. Then another- a bottle! He groaned again, flinching even though he wasn't sure where the fighting was.

Suddenly he looked up. Blinking, he was surprised to find Dax standing over the one Klingon, her hand twisting his in what looked like a very painful position. The other Klingon was at her feet.

Quark shook his head. He rose, knowing that the danger had passed. "You should be ashamed of yourselves," he paused for half a second before saying, "Being beaten by a woman is only half your problems."

"Quark." He flinched at the sound of Dax's voice.

"Okay, okay. I'll get Odo."

/-/-/-/

/-_** The Following Week**_

"This is amazing."

"What is amazing, Geordie?"

"Everything. I mean… just look at this warp core."

"Yeah. We take a lot of pride in that thing."

Data turned slowly at the sound of the woman's voice. Yellow eyes fell on the dark woman. He glanced her over; his mechanical gaze taking her in the same way he would any piece of data.

All but a few strands of brown hair fell behind her shoulders. Feisty brown eyes shone under the distortion of forehead ridges. Part Klingon, he would guess.

Looking over at his companion, he saw a smile of recognition spreadingover Geordie's face. He looked back to the Klingons engineer. She shared Geordie's smile.

"B'Elanna Torres. Fancy meeting you here."

"Geordie. It's good to see you again."

Data's head tipped to the side, watching the exchange. Had Geordie asked, he could have told him she was onboard. He hadn't known the two knew each other.

"How was your trip here?" The Klingon, B'Elanna Torres, asked, sliding out of an embrace with his friend.

Geordie raised his shoulders, dropping them as he said, "Pretty good."

"Oh. This is my friend, Commander Data."

"The android?"

"Yes." His head bobbed in a nod. He caught the site of her hand stretching out. He took it out of habit, shaking it lightly.

"Well this is… amazing."

"As my husband would say, 'it's pretty cool'." Data's brow rose at the oddity of the old Earth colloquialism.

"So what do you need done around here?"

"Well do you want to clean the injectors or the impulse manifolds?" Data cocked an eyebrow again. But the Klingon smiled at him, almost laughed. "No, um… follow me, we'll get you something to do."

Data nodded, looking over his shoulder at the familiar voice. He heard Geordie and the _Voyager_'s engineer walking away. But his attention was on a young Vulcan. He seemed quite exasperated, though the emotion was well hidden.

Data's ears overheard what he was saying, his voice somewhat strained. "Your assistance is appreciated."

He followed the Vulcan's sight to find Barclay standing beside the warp core with a hypospanner. "W-why t-thank-you. Y-you s-should-"

"Yes, we are."

Data shook his head slightly. Turning away and following the path he had seen Geordie take with the Klingon. He glanced over his shoulder at the Vulcan and Barclay before stepping around the console.

/-/-/-/

/- _**Around The Same Time**_

"Wow. That must have been difficult."

"Yeah. It was."

Geordie nodded, glancing down at the uneaten food. He just couldn't stop talking long enough to eat any. "So, Harry," he said, looking up at the Asian Ensign, "you said most of these upgrades are Borg?"

"Yeah. Compliments of Seven of Nine."

"Seven on Nine? You have a Borg on this ship?"

"Well," Harry said with a shrug, "She has been… de-borgafied, for lack of a better word."

Geordie smirked, chuckling at B'Elanna's mocking, "De-borgifed?" He looked over at her as she continued, "We actually have two. Icheb. He's about twenty."

"Oh."

"They really aren't that bad."

"No, I know that. We, uh… we meet a Borg once. Hugh…" He sighed, scratching his chin.

Harry nodded and looked back at his food, picking at it some. "So… how did the two of you meet?"

"Well it's a long story-"

"But," B'Elanna interrupted, "basically he helped me at the academy."

"And you still dropped out?" The Klingon shrugged.

Geordie looked over at B'Elanna and then at Harry, then back at the Klingon. "Well I hear you're married now."

B'Elanna nodded, a smile pulling at her lips. "Tom Paris. We have a daughter now too. Miral."

"Well… been a while."

"Yeah."

Silence draped over the table. Harry's sigh the only think to break it. "I heard that your Captain Riker doesn't like the Maquis very much."

"What?" Geordie looked up quickly to see Harry shrug.

"Just something I heard."

"I doubt that's true." Harry shrugged again, turning back to his food.

"Where's your android friend?"

"Data? Still down in engineering would be my guess. So," Geordie sighed, "Tell me about the Delta Quadrant."

"You mean some of the things we saw?"

"Yeah."

"Well…" B'Elanna's voice trailed off as she looked over at Harry. He shrugged, as if unsure which adventure to start with, "I saw 1997-Earth."

"Sorry?" A bemuse grin grew over Geordie's face as he looked at the half Klingon.

"Yeah. That's when our doctor got his mobile emitter."

"Wait, your doctor's a hologram, right?" She nodded, an odd smile growing over her face. "So is a mobile emitter what I think it is?"

/-/-/-/

/-_** Around the Same Time **_

The recorded image played out again. It had been repeated several times over the week. Ken sighed at the sight. Amen was walking through a small group of reporters. He was smiling, laughing amicably as if friends with them all.

He glanced over at the President standing next to him, then back at the screen. Amen was enjoying the strategy Ken had laid out for him. The genius, young manipulative man seemed to be returning. He hadn't seen the spark that had originally intrigued him all those years before. But it seemed to be back.

He listened as the news reporter spoke about his trip to Betazed. Nothing had been said to the Federation press about the treaty. The meetings and celebration he had been attending were meant to further improve relations between the Federation and Alliance. That was all they knew.

Amen watched himself smile and shake hands. Watched himself step out of the Alliance Headquarters with Lwaxana Troi, Ambassador Pell Lynn, and Ken behind.

He watched the Betazoid. She smiled. She waved. She smiled politely at him. But Amen knew she hated it. Every second was torture to her. She had been opposed to being seen with him, but her own people- the Trill, if he recalled correctly- had convinced her of the necessity of appearing friendly.

The recording ended and the man moved on to the next subject. Ken shut the screen off. Amen glanced over his shoulder to see Ken still in his corner. It was odd to see him stand there. Not in the corner, for Ken always seemed to migrate to a corner when he was around. Amen wasn't sure, however, if he should take that as a compliment or for something else.

No, that wasn't what struck him as odd. What was odd- and Amen laughed at himself for this observation- was that he was standing in the wrong corner.

Things had been off with Ken, Amen had decided. Slowly they had been returning to normal. But, ever since about a year before, Amen had noticed certain changes. Small changes. But changes none-the-less. He talked more openly and confidently around him, and yet spoke less in general with him. His bizarre genius had stuttered. And he was always standing in the wrong corner.

The soft beeping on his desk diverted his attention. "I have some meeting I have to get to. Walk with me, Ken."

"Yes, sir."

Amen stepped out the door, knowing Ken was at his side before he heard the door close. "I haven't had the chance to speak with Commander Azia in some time. I was wondering if you had."

"Concerning-?"

"The ships."

"Not directly from the Commander. But one of his officers contacted me briefly earlier today."

"And I'm just hearing about this?"

Amen looked. Ken's mouth dropped suddenly and his eyes glanced to the side quickly. "I… forgot. I was going to mention it earlier but-"

"What did he say?"

"The officer? Uh… he said that… well, that the ships are ready. They're putting…"

Amen's grin spread to his eyes. He heard Ken talking but facilelyignored his voice. Nothing he could say could possible be more important than those few words. "Good, good. I want a report on my desk later today."

/-/-/-/

/-_** August, Three Months Later **_

He starred at the sheet in his hands. Light from his desk filtered through, lighting it to allow him to read the brief message.

Better. That was all it really said. The President wanted it better.

Dr. Keithers shook his head, scratching his chin. Sharp, itchy hairs had started to grow. Shaving had not been a priority and by then it had grown so long that he was considering just growing a beard.

He forced his mind back to the sheet. Make what better?

Keithers sighed, setting the sheet down on his desk. He had paged Ambassador Smith. The man wasn't at his office and he needed to understand what they wanted.

It was quick. It vanished. It rendered its victims… well he had seen the results. The victims were blank minds. It was perfect. What needed changing?

"Ahh!" Keithers brought a hand to his chest, feeling the rapid pulse beneath his palm. His lung sucked in air, hungry for the substance. "You startled the life out of me!"

He watched as the muscles twitched but didn't form a smile. Schooling his face, the man stepped in closer to Keithers. "You needed to speak with me?"

Keithers sighed. He glanced Ken over. He hadn't heard him enter at all. But then he seemed to do that a lot in the past months. Keither knew that Ken only did it because it amused him.

"Yeah. Improvements to the weapon, huh?"

"Is there a way to keep the area contaminated but the weapon undetectable?"

Keithers opened his mouth, intending to say no. But he closed it quickly, eyes rolling to the side in thought.

"There is a possibility," he murmured after a moment.

"Which is?"

"I'll get back to you."

/-/-/-/

/- _**Around The Same Time**_

"Come in, come in, Chakotay."

Captain Kathryn Janeway smiled as she settled back into the couch in her ready room, looking up at the door as her first officer walked in. He gave her a smirk, flashing his dimples.

"So B'Elanna has officially declared us "in pieces"."

"With those words?"

The Human nodded, stepping up to Janeway. "Yeah." The his smile faded some; Janeway recognized it as a look meaning he had some business to discuss. "She said that the _Enterprise_ engineers have been a great help but must leave in a few hours."

"Yes. I wanted to go say good-bye personally. God knows B'Elanna might have gone insane without the help."

Chakotay just chuckled. "She may yet, having to put this ship back together without much help."

The sound evaporated as Janeway looked out at the stars. Chakotay walked over to her, taking the seat next to her. She rested her temple against the ball of her palm, turning her head slowly to find his eye, a phantom of her old smile crawling over her face.

"We're back. Back in the Alpha Quadrant."

"Yeah… some got home… how's Tuvok?"

Her eyes had wandered to the floor, but moved quickly back to his eyes at the sound of her old friend's name. "He sent a message yesterday. He's doing better."

"When's he coming back?"

She sighed, eyes finding the stars again. "Sta-" Janeway shook her head. "I almost said Starfleet… um… the Alliance Fleet will be sending us to Vulcan space once we're up and running, so we're picking him up there."

Chakotay nodded. He looked down at the floor, scratching at the solid black line of the tattoo on his left temple. "So…"

"So…"

"I hate these uniforms." Kathryn laughed, Chakotay soon following her. For a long moment they just laughed, finally calming. "I do."

She laughed a bit more, trying to regain her breathing. "I don't mind them… but I hate the purple and green."

Chakotay nodded. "I know B'Elanna sure wasn't happy about the green."

"No, she wasn't… poor Tom, having to listen to it. Harry didn't like the new color either."

"No. They say their going to add the… these enhancements to the fleet. Incase the war starts again."

"Yeah," she nodded. "Incase."

"If a war does start…?"

She caught his eye again, her head resting against her hand again. Suddenly she sighed and shook her head. "Then we fight."

"We fight Earth? We fight the Federation?"

Her hand rubbed the bridge of her nose. She just shook her head. "We have to… I don't know. What they say makes sense. And as much as I want to go back home, we can't. We- I don't know… do you think I should have… have tried to offer any one who wanted to return to Earth the chance?"

Chakotay looked away. He sighed. "I think… if you had decided to stay, everyone else would have. Look at B'Elanna and Tom. They could have settled down with Miral, but they didn't."

She just shook her head. "Yeah, maybe…"

/-/-/-/

/-_** October, Two Months Later **_

"_Farwell, Imzadi. Come back to me soon."_

A smile touched Will's lips as the words echoed in his thoughts. Deanna's voice had caressed his mind earlier when he had left her. A bitter sweet moment, as their partings always were.

She had shed a single tear, for she never shed any more than that. Will had simply kissed it away.

"_I will be back soon. I promise."_

That had been all Will could say. All he could promise her.

Riker stood facing the viewscreen, watching his home fade into the blackness of space.

His crew was whole again. Refreshed and waiting for something to do. Something more than the mundane tasks of patrolling a system.

In the past years, Riker had enjoyed being planet-side. Of course, that only pertained to the planet Betazed. His crew had not. Sometimes he forgot himself and that fact.

"_Enterprise needs you. Your crew needs you. You have been ignoring both lately."_

Will had known what she meant then. He had pretended that he didn't, only because he hadn't wanted to think about leaving.

But he had been thinking over her words for hours. The moment he had set foot on his ship, his mind had raced with the words and the knowledge of his neglect.

"_Your family will always be here waiting. Your crew needs you now."_

He didn't want to think that he had been letting down his crew. Letting down the legacy that was _Enterprise_. But he knew he had… and he wasn't sure if he had the energy… had the desire to fix it.

/-/-/-/

/-_** Around The Same Time **_

Amen ignored the sound of Ken's feet against the floor, eyes finding it easy to focus on the colors before him rather than the polished shoes entering and leaving his sight repeatedly.

"And that's all for the day's schedule?"

"Yeah, pretty much." Amen nodded, arm moving fluently, eyes remaining on what he was doing. He knew Ken had stopped his pacing and was looking back him. Ken hadn't paced in some time; he had once, but it had stopped and restarted suddenly.

"And who am I meeting again?"

"Admiral Hill. He's overseeing the construction of the new fleet."

"Well," Amen said with a flourished nod, "show him in." Ken nodded and turned to the door.

Amen sighed, wiping his hands on the dirtied towel that had been draped over his knee. He busied himself on removing the yellow stain from his finger, either not hearing or ignoring the sound of someone entering.

"President Amen?"

He looked up at the sound of his name. A smile seemed to slither over his face, something ominous growing in his eyes. "Admiral, please have a seat."

"Thank-you, sir."

"So what have youto report?"

The Admiral pulled the chair closer to him, shifting his weight to get comfortable in his rigid position. With a breath he recited the report he had been given, Amen nodding his head at key points.

"Suffice to say, sir," he said with a sighed, drawing to an end, "Within the next two months they'll be ready."

"What about crews?"

"I have a list of officers I'd like to recommend as Captains. The graduating class at the Academy has already been briefed and brought to the fleet. They'll begin drills within the week."

"What about more experienced officers? Senior staff?"

"They'll be selected by the Captains."

"Very good. Thank-you, Admiral."

"Mr. President." Admiral Hill gave a stiff nod, rising from his chair. Amen stood slowly, glancing over the height difference. The man was slightly taller than him.

Hill turned and walked away, Ken stepping aside to get out of his way. Then the Ambassador looked to Amen and his president sank back down into his chair, his attention immediately shifting to the painting.

"If you don't mind me asking, Mr. President, how long have you been working on that?"

"Oh," he sighed, picking up a brush, "for a bit. Hardly done, too."

"No?"

"No. Still a ways to go."

"If you say so, sir."

He looked up, his gaze taking in the Ambassador. "You don't think so?"

"To be frank, sir, I'm not sure what it is."

Amen just nodded, the same ominous gleam that had been there moments before returned. "You'll see when it's done… you'll see."

/-/-/-/

/-_** Three Weeks Later **_

Admiral Jackson looked up at the swoosh of the doors. An Ensign gestured behind him, announcing his next appointment. Jackson nodded, standing from his chair as he watched the Ensign move aside for the Captain outside the door.

"Captain Riker."

"Admiral," the Captain said with a polite smile, shaking his hand firmly.

"Please, sit."

"Thank-you, sir." Riker glanced around the room as he approached the chair. He pulled it out, lowering himself into it cautiously. "To be honest, I'm not exactly sure why I'm here, sir."

He just smirked, leaning back in his chair some. "I've read you requests to have _Enterprise_ transferred back to Betazed."

"Yes, sir. And I can-"

"Let me finish… I know your motives. The rest of you crew has their families aboard- yours is so far away. While I don't think a good Captain should be influence by this, I understand. Times are tough."

"Yes, they are, sir."

"I can't halt _Enterprise_'s transfer from the Betazed system."

Riker nodded again, lacing his hands together on his lap. "I understand, sir."

Admiral Jackson shook his head, stifling a laugh. "I don't think you do… Captain, how would you feel about a promotion?"

He looked at him, starred at him, for a moment. His mouth was opened slightly, shock registering over his face. He blinked, then said, "You mean… you want to make me an Admiral?"

"Yes. And I want you on Betazed."

"I'm still-"

"Admiral Keshna's husband has recently been very ill. She would like to return home to Trill and be with her family. I thought maybe you'd like to be with yours."

He blinked again, his mind still trying to process all that was being said. He was stunned. Flabbergasted really. He had never wanted to be an Admiral; he had worked so hard for just a command. For _Enterprise_. A desk job wasn't what he had been looking for. Down the road, maybe. But…

He scratched the side of his neck, shaking his head as he looked down at the floor. Desk job or not it was on Betazed. But Betazed wasn't _Enterprise_. It was his family's home, but not _Enterprise_. "I'm… I'm flattered. Um-"

"I don't need an answer this instant, Will. Take some time. Talk to your wife. Figure it out. Get back to me by the end of the week."

"Thank-you."

"It was good seeing you again."

"And you." Riker shook the man's hand as he rose, the Admiral rising with him. Pushing the chair back he walked around it, heading to the door. But he halted and turned back to look at Jackson. "One question."

Jackson looked up. "Yes?"

"If I… if I take this promotion… I want Commander Data in charge."

"You mean as Captain of _Enterprise_?"

"Yeah."

The Admiral paused, hesitating before answering. "I'll try."

"Thank-you again." Riker nodded again, then turned and walked out the door.

/-/-/-/

/-_** Next Morning **_

"Will… you know you can just beam down and talk to me whenever you want."

"_Yeah… I know, but… um, listen, Deanna, there's something I need to talk to you about. I was… well Admiral Jackson wanted to talk to me. There's a position open… they want to make me an Admiral and assign me to Betazed."_

Deanna paused, looking away from Will. She sighed. She wanted Will home. Wanted a father for his children. A husband to hold her in bed. Wanted him safe.

But she also wanted Will happy. He wanted her opinion, but she also sensed that he wanted Deanna the Counselor. The old friend who held more objectivity than Deanna the wife.

He wanted to be reminded that he loved _Enterprise_, that he had worked so hard to be Captain. How bored he would be if behind a desk.

"You never wanted to be an admiral," she said softly as she looked back at him.

"_No, that's true… but I want to be with you. I can't do that as a Captain."_

"So you're going to leave _Enterprise_?"

He sighed. Deanna watched him, a phantom of a smile on her lips as she thought how cute he always looked when he ran a hand over his face. But the thought was erased by Will's hauntedeyes finding hers.

"_Data can handle it. It would be about time he got a command."_

"Are you sure?"

"_You sound as if you don't want me back."_ Deanna smiled at the jest. The smirk was genuine but small. She was still disturbed by his eyes.

"Hardly… I just want you to be happy. You'll hate being an Admiral."

He sighed. Then shrugged. _"Nah… it means I get to see you. It means a warm bed and my kids to tuck in at night."_

She smiled, this time it reached her eyes and lit her features. "Then come home quick."

"_I will. I have to go. Briefing in a couple minutes-"_

"Yeah… I'm so glad I'm not a part of those any more."

He smirked. She had never had much to say during a meeting- except a question that half the table already knew the answer to and to be the empathic Betazoid. She smiled back.

"_Okay… Love you."_

"Love you too."

"_Good bye, Imazdi."_ She closed her eyes as she caressed his mind, whispering the words back to him. When her eyes opened, she already knew to expect a blank screen. But that didn't stop the flash of disappointment she felt at not meeting his blue eyes.

"Come home to me, Imazdi… soon…"

/-/-/-/

/- _**One Week Later **_

Riker laughed happily as he stepped onto the turbolift, wiping some chocolate from the side of his mouth. His crew- his friends knew how to throw a party.

They had surprised him by calling him to the conference room. It had been simple but they, as a joke, had brought chocolate cake. All to say good-bye. Will had enjoyed it…

But he sobered when he turned back around, facing his bridge. Déjà vu coursedin the pit of his stomach. His eyes roamed over his bridge and crew. It was cleaner and livelier then the last time he had been forced to leave it.

"Just one more good-bye before you leave."

Will's gaze fell on the form of the ever-lovely Beverly Crusher, who was standing in the door's way. He smirked, pulling his mind from the dark places it had a tendency of retreating to.

Beverly stepped into the lift and Will pulled her into a tight embrace. He smiled when she whispered in his ear, "I talk to Deana all the time-"

"She's mentioned."

"You better say 'hi' once in a while."

"I think I can manage that."

"Good." She pulled away, kissing him on the cheek before stepping out of the embrace.

"Why, doctor, I'm a married man." Both grinned at the tease. But once again the mood sobered. Will sighed softly, catching her gaze. "I'll talk to you later, I promise."

"Good-bye, Will." The lift doors closed, hiding her face and his bridge from sight.

A shaky breath passed over his lips. "Transporter room three."

With a jolt, the turbolift started. Data and Riker remained quiet the entire ride, the silence broken by Riker as they stepped out into the hall across the transporter room.

"I expect that Admiral Jackson or someone will call within the next few hours to give you your orders." Riker stopped just before the stairs to the transporter pad. He looked over the android. What a friend he had made over the years. A first officer. He would be a great captain, Riker was sure.

"_Enterprise_ is yours."

"Thank-you, Admiral."

"I'll see you around, Data. Count on it."

Data nodded, moving behind the console. He looked up to see Admiral Riker shift his bag on his shoulder. Data had already arranged for the rest of his belongings to be placed on the transporter pad.

Riker found his eyes. There was a smile on his face. He winked, then nodded, then disappeared from sight.

For only a moment, Data paused and stared at the spot his former captain had stood. He knew that, to any other person on the ship, it would have been an emotional moment. But Data's mind had turned to several other things, only a short break within these thoughts was given to Admiral Riker's departure and his command of the ship.

Data turned away, after securing the console, and walked out the door, retracing his earlier path.

Stepping off the turbolift, he walkedback onto the same bridge he had been on moments before.

"Commander Data?" Data looked up at the sound of his name to find Lieutenant Commander Byron at the tactical station looking at him. "Admiral Jackson is hailing us. He requests to speak to you privately."

The Commander's eyes scanned over the bridge. Several extra crewmembers were still mulling about, having yet to leave. Dr. Crusher was among them. He thought perhaps it was best not to let the Admiral see the unruly condition of the bridge.

With a nod, he walked down the bridge, side stepping into the ready room. Had his emotion chip been on, that moment might have meant more to him. As it was, Data's mind was focused on several other matters, one of which was the Admiral.

Seating himself behind the desk, the android activated the link. "Admiral Jackson."

"_Where is Admiral Riker?"_

"He has already departed."

"_Oh… well I might as well tell you. Commander, I am afraid to tell you that Admiral Riker's request to make you captain of the _Enterprise_ had been denied."_

Data nodded slowly, watching he Admiral's hard face. He would not meet his eyes. Data was not offended by the action as he knew others would be. Merely curious.

Not even the announcement fazed him. Again he was simply curious. He had the experience, the years, everything he thought they would look for. Even the loyalty and support of the crew to an extent.

"Then who will be assigned as captain?"

"_A Captain Dezmond. He'll be arriving at Betazed in two days. _Enterprise _has orders to remain in orbit until then."_

"Yes, sir."

The Admiral's face blinked out of existence with the android's short words.

Data stood, a few precise strides taking him to the door. Dr. Crusher sat calmly in the center chair. She grinned at him. Data knew from his experience with Humans what she thought had been said. Had his emotion chip been activate, he might have sighed, or frowned, or something to that nature. But he didn't.

Another precise stride brought him closer to the doctor. Then another. He would tell her then that she was incorrect. He would tell her and the rest of the crew- there was nothing else he could do.

/-/-

Hmm... poor Data. So close to a command... and then the new Captain comes. Way to put the android down.

Anyway, drop a line and let me know what you thought. Hugs, JD


	19. Year 7: 2378, continued again

/-/-/-/

/-_** Around The Same Time **_

"What color is that, Chambe?"

"Wed!" He squealed, seeing his grandmother point to the Earth rose.

"And that? What color is that?"

Chamberlain paused a moment, taking in the plant, then glancing at his grandmother before he was able to find the word. "Lellow."

"Very good," Lwaxana cooed, a smile on her face as she pointed somewhere else. "What color is your shirt?"

He looked down, trying to see his clothes from Lwaxana's arms. "Gween!"

"No. Is it blue?" She asked softly, reminding him the name. Chamberlain looked away, his eyes watching something else. "Chambe?"

He looked back at his shirt, proudly announcing, "Boo." But then his attention returned to something behind them. "Urple!"

Lwaxana turned around, finding what he was pointing at. Her face fell some, becoming softer as a reminiscent smile tugged at her lips. Chamberlain, as if sensing her mood change, announced, "Urple!"

The older Betazoid nodded. "Yes, purple. They're called Ma'lons."

"Ma-lo-nsss," the boy sounded out, giggling after as he observed the rose-like flowers drooping over their heads from the hanging branches. "Urple 'alons!"

Slowly, Lwaxana walked up to the plant, its smell more dominate even through the aromatic garden. Chamberlain's pudgy hands reached out, carefully feeling the soft petals. His fingers traced over the leaves, following its stem as far as his arm could reach. And, for what he couldn't touch, he looked, his eyes finding where the long, rough stem met with the soft bark of the Ma'lon tree.

A sudden burst of giggles escaped him, his attention drawn to the beautiful sight of an Imza. Chamberlain's hands reached out, as if he was trying to grab the bird mid-flight, even though it was meters above of them.

Lwaxana smiled. The Imza's long wings spread, gliding through the clouds and slowly making its decent, landing not far from where they stood.

Its chest glistened with purple, its wings spotted with assortments of red, green, and yellow. It was a large bird, but designed to hide easily in an Orcar Tree, for its prey often lived in the waters Orcar Trees grew near.

Chamberlain giggled, reaching out to touch the bird. "Birdie!" came his excited squeal, trying to wiggle from her grasp.

"That's called an Imza," Lwaxana told him, taking only one step closer. The woman smiled, amused by something she had once learned about the bird. Its name meant 'of great love'. Supposedly the legend of the Imza was linked to the creation of the Imzadi legend… Perhaps it was a good sign for her grandson. The thought made her smile.

Chamberlain looked back at her. She smiled wider at his lopsided grin- his father's, she knew.

The boy wasn't as skilled as his sister had been at his age. Lwaxana hadn't expected Liz to be skilled at all with her telepathy, but it was no surprise considering who her grandmother was. But Chamberlain, as far as she could tell, held only one ability. And that was displayed only by a smile he saved for only five reasons…

A grin fell over her face as she allowed the thoughts to come to her. "Do you know who's here?"

Chamberlain's smile grew but he said nothing. Instead he pointed to the garden exit that would lead them to the front entrance.

Lwaxana complied with a smile, walking the boy down the dirt path. She set him down when her eyes caught the first sign of people. Chamberlain took a wobbly step, then paused, then smiled even wider and ran towards the small group.

"Daaa!" Lwaxana smiled as the boy's voice fluctuated in pitch as he ran to his father. She watched as Will turned around, a smile of his own splitting his face as Chamberlain ran into his legs.

"Hey, champ."

Lwaxana approached slowly, almost reluctant to break the mood for the family. Sometimes she found it hard to remember that she was indeed a part of it.

"Lwaxana."

"Hello, William. Or shall I say Admiral?" He blushed; Lwaxana had always known that he held some humbleness in him. It showed now and again, but she would not reveal his secret.

Her gaze passed over the four. Chamberlain had found his way into his father's arms and was playing with the communicator on his chest. Liz stood close to both parents. Will's other hand had snaked around Deanna's waist.

He was back and there to stay… it had only taken how long…

/-/-/-/

/-_** Two Days Later **_

Ensign Shivers nodded to herself, hearing Commander Data's go ahead. She looked down at her hands, stretching her fingers to key in the sequence and locked onto the signal.

It was a boring job but she enjoyed the freedom it gave her to fiddle with her transporter.

Shivers peered over at her Commanding officers as the form flickered to life. She knew Data as he often helped her with the transporter when he had spar time. He seemed unaffected by what was about to occur. He stood straight with his normal stance, looking up at the disassembled body. She didn't mind that he was an android. In fact she found it refreshing and had rejoiced when she heard he was supposed to be captain.

The doctor, however, did not conceal her opinion as well. Her shoulders slumped just so subtly, her face tight with unspoken thoughts. Shivers didn't know her any farther than inside the sickbay but Shivers felt that she knew people and that she knew what she saw.

Geordie stood loosely beside the doctor. He seemed like a good man. Nice, a good chief engineer- a great engineer, better than most- but Shivers just didn't get along with him. He just rubbed her the wrong way and she never knew just why.

Finally she turned her gaze on the young Lieutenant Commander Terell Byron. She had spoken briefly with him back when he had come aboard just three months before. He was built awkwardly; a tall, skinny man. But his lanky build concealed his ability as a security officer and his genius as a tactical officer. Shivers heard down from scuttlebutt that Captain Riker had never liked him. She wasn't sure why for her few encounters with him had shown him to be decent.

"Captain Dezmond."

Shivers looked up from her musings to find an average sized man. He was a younger man than she expected though still up in his forties. He had barely a centimeter of brown hair on his head. Shivers watched as his green eyes, commanding and calculating eyes, took in the four officers in the room.

"Doctor," he said curtly with a sharp nod.

"Shall we?"

Shivers looked back down at the console, ignoring the conversation around her, as always, until the voices faded into the corridor.

/-/-/-/

/-_** A Few Days Later**_

"You wanted to see me?"

Captain Kathryn Janeway looked up to see her first officer, Commander Chakotay, standing in the doorway to her ready room. "Yes," she said with a flicker of a small, waving him over to where she sat on the couch leaning up against the window. "Come sit."

Chakotay joined her in a few easy strides, sinking down to her level, reclining in the soft couch. He glanced over his shoulder and out the window; _Voyager_ had been orbiting the planet Vulcan for months.

"What's up?"

Janeway smiled at the odd phrasing, proclaiming, "You've been spending far too much time with Tom." He chuckled, but said nothing farther, waiting for his captain to resurface and speak with him. "A Captain Benton just contacted me on the behave of Admiral Jackson."

"Yeah? And what did he say?"

"They want us back on Betazed."

"What for?"

Janeway sighed and leaned back into the sofa, the new angle allowing her a better view of Vulcan below. Months of being stationed in the system was boring after seven years in the Delta Quadrant, but at least it was better than being planet-side in a half-stripped ship.

"Something about pulling _Voyager_ apart again. I don't know, I wasn't really paying attention."

"No?" Chakotay remarked with a playful sarcasm. Janeway smiled, mock-slapping him on the leg. He laughed with her for a short time before the smile leaked off his face and seriousness returned. "When are we leaving?"

"Three days."

"That'll put us at Betazed in a week."

She nodded but was no longer looking at him. They were silent for a short time, neither knowing what to say and Chakotay not knowing whether or not to leave. "B'Elanna's going to hate this." Chakotay snorted at the sudden statement, sending both of them into a short fit of giggles.

"That she is."

"I should really try to convince her to take a break, stay away from the ship for a while." Janeway looked back at Chakotay as she spoke, finishing with, "She really should spend some quality time with Tom and Miral."

Chakotay nodded but had nothing to add. Again, they fell easily into a short period of comfortable silence. It wasn't until minutes later that Chakotay stood and excused himself, leaving Janeway watching as Vulcan turned under her.

/-/-/-/

/-_** Around The Same Time **_

"_I've been trying to reach you since you left."_

Beverly smiled as she looked at the face on her computer screen. "Well hello, Deanna. Sorry I didn't call earlier." She sighed, sinking into her desk chair as she pushed away the reports. "We've been in a communications jamming area."

Deanna nodded. _"Well I'm glad to finally talk to you again."_

"So… did Will tell you?"

"_Tell me about what?"_

Beverly saw her brow arc and certain cheek muscles tense. The Betazoid leaned forward and the doctor knew she didn't know. "He didn't-" She shook her head and took a breath. "Data isn't captain."

"_What? But I thought-"_

"So did we. There's a new guy… Captain Dezmond. He's… well he's strict and I don't know how comfortable he is with Data but he's okay as far as being a captain goes."

"_Will never said anything."_

Beverly could hear Deanna's frustration, some anger seeping into her words. It would have been amusing had the situation been just slightly different.

"_Excuse me, Beverly. Will's here."_

"I'll just wait."

Deanna nodded. She rose from her chair, turning and looking to the door. She hadn't sensed that Will was hiding anything from her. He was aggravated when he returned from work, but only because he was bored with it. His mood often changed the moment he saw his family.

"William."

"Uh-oh," he said with a slight chuckled, his smirk vanishing when he saw her.

"Come here for a minute."

Deanna crossed her arms over her chest, watching as he set Chamberlain down, ruffling the boy's hair and telling him to go back and play. Then, looking at her, he followed her back to where Beverly's image was mounted on the wall.

"Hi, Bev."

"_Will."_

"I'm getting the feeling that I'm in trouble."

"_Just a little."_

"What'd I do now?" he said, turning to look at Deanna with an awkward grin.

"Who's Captain of the _Enterprise_, Will?"

Deanna watched, almost amused, as he turned to Beverly with a bewildered look. "What's wrong with Data?"

"_Nothing. But he's not the Captain."_

"What?"

"You didn't know?"

"No!" Deanna flinched at the anger she sensed and the anger that had manifested in his voice. He turned and looked at her. "I'm going to talk to Admiral Jackson."

"Will?" Deanna looked back to Beverly. "I guess he didn't know."

/-/-/-/

/-_** Hours Later **_

"Admiral?" The Lieutenant said, surprised to see Admiral Riker walking through his office. He cleared his throat as he realized that Riker was heading for Admiral Jackson's office, "I'm sorry, sir, but you can't go in there. Admiral Jackson doesn't want to be disturbed."

"I don't care."

"But, Admiral-"

"Out of my way!" The Lieutenant, cowering under the harsh words, stepped aside and watched as Riker walked through the doors.

"Will?" Jackson said in shock, "I, um-"

"Who's the captain of _Enterprise_?"

"What the-" Jackson shook his head, "What are you talking about?"

"_Enterprise_? Who's the captain?"

Jackson sighed, pushing away the work in front of him. Lacing his fingers together, he leaned against his desk. "Captain Dezmond is a good man. He's a good capt-"

"I ask you to give _Enterprise_ to Data!"

"In case you hadn't noticed, Will, I do _outrank_ you! It wasn't your choice. I'm being lenient, listening to this… this…"

Riker shook his head as Jackson fumbled for a word, a frustrated smirk appearing. "Is this because he's an android? Is that why you were hesitant to say yes?"

"That has nothing to do with it. Commander Data is-"

"More than experienced enough for this command. He's earned it. He deserved it!"

"Calm yourself, Will, before I am forced to call security."

Riker looked over at the Admiral. He had stood, his one hand dangerously close to the comm. He sighed, shaking his head. Scratching the back of his neck, he said, "You're not going to give him this promotion, are you?"

"I'm not, no."

Riker nodded slowly. His voice was quiet when he said, "Then I want _Enterprise_."

"I'm sorry?"

"I want _Enterprise_. I want the command."

"You want _Enterprise_ back?" Riker nodded. But Jackson just shook his head. "I'm sorry, but I can't. Captain Dezmond will be good for the _Enterprise_. Commander Data will get his promotion in due time. Now, go home and calm down."

Riker opened his mouth, drawing in breath to speak. But he didn't. Suddenly his actions flooded into his mind, making him feel more than foolish. He shook his head and turned, walking out the door, not sparing Jackson a second glance before the door closed behind him.

/-/-/-/

/-_** Early November **_

White fog escaped from Amen's lips, each breath freezing in the icy November weather. He covered his mouth with his hands, cupping them to catch the warm air before it froze. Rubbing them together, he shivered. Amen stuffed his hands into his pockets, shrugging his coat into a more comfortable position.

He glanced at the entrance to the building, then back at the snowy streets. No one was there yet. They would be soon though. He wasn't sure why he was waiting outside. Amen wasn't even sure why he was waiting at all.

Amen supposed that Ken should be the one there. But he didn't think the young one could do it. Yes, he thought thirty-four as young. Smith still had years before him in politics.

And yet he wasn't as vocal as he had once been. He had lost much of the spark that had originally attracted him to the young Ambassador.

He supposed it was actually Ken Smith's job to be there and convince the others. But he wanted to be there. Ken would be along, would be there, but ultimately, Amen would speak.

Amen's gaze fell back upon the doors. Yes, it had been a long while since he last walked through those doors. He was convinced, however, that that was not the reason for his hesitance to enter.

He sighed, white vapor passing his lips, vanishing with the wind.

Stepping forward, his feet leading him with a purpose. Numb fingers were pulled from their warmth, stretching and fumbling to activate the doors. A wave of warmth sent a stab of pain through his body as it was brought to life.

A hall of white met him. Amen looked to his right, finding- as he knew he would- that the wall did not meet the ceiling but began the first row of seats. Three more rows, each higher than the other, were behind it. Same, he knew, was on his left.

He looked down, watching his feet making their slow, steady gait through the room. Cautiously as if weary of what he might see, he looked up.

Before him was not the podium of the Federation President- as had existed only a century ago. It wasn't even the five chairs of the Federation Council as Amen had known. Only three chairs remained- the one Earth always sat in and two others with new banners handing behind them.

For a time, Earth had been the only Council member. But the Federation Council of Representatives had decided that at least two others were to join. Amen admitted to being frustrated by this, but he had expected it.

Fingertips brushed gently over the dark wood of the chair. A slight smirk formed on is lips, but disappeared almost instantly.

He moved away from the chairs, finding himself standing awkwardly in the center of the white hall, looking at the closed door.

In just a moment, it would open to admit all the members of the Council. He would tell them what he had held back for years. Rumors were all they knew.

He would tell them of Earth's alliance with the Mikolians. Tell them the reason for the Klingon-Alliance agreements. About the war they had not known about. Perhaps he would even mention some of the true reasons for the Federation's split. Perhaps…

But what he was there to tell them was that, in hours, they would again be at war.

/-/-/-/

/-_** Hours Later **_

It was a slow day. No, it was a slow night. They had switch from Betazed to Bolian time the other day and Lieutenant Commander Byron had yet to adapt to it.

He sighed, rubbing his eye. In his mind it was bedtime, regardless of what time it actually was.

Commander Data's voice echoed in his tried ears. He was briefing the Captain and Byron felt almost jealous for he wouldn't leave for another hour.

"Everything appears to be quiet in the Bolius system."

Byron looked up when he didn't hear a response. He had grown accustom to Captain Riker's quick replies and snide remarks. The amusing banter between the two friends.

He would admit that he missed a lot of things. A lot of things Captain Riker took with him when he left. Things Captain Dezmond did nothing to bring back.

The Captain was… well Byron didn't like him much. He was strict, which was good but not when combined with his curt manner and tendency to be rude to the crew. Especially Data. Byron didn't pretend to know everything about anything, but he did notice things. And one thing he noticed was how often the android first officer was disregarded by the Captain.

Byron creased his brow at the yawn Dezmond covered with his fist. "Good, good. Anything else?"

Dismissing him again. The Captain was hardly even looking at Data.

"No, sir."

And poor Data. Byron knew that the android had learned to understand and mimic human mannerisms. Somehow Byron didn't think that Data understood this one. And, if he did, it was the first time Byron didn't envy his void of natural emotions.

"You're dismissed then." Byron would have said something as Data walked passed, but chose against it. "Mr. Byron?"

He looked up at the man. Humans annoyed him quite often. Mostly it was their unorganized thoughts; partly it was their lack of mental disciple. But Dezmond had a way about him that Byron just didn't agree with.

/-/-/-/

/-_** Around The Same Time **_

"Mr. President?"

Amen glanced over his shoulder, then back at the sky. "Yes, Ken?"

"What are you doing out here?"

The President only shrugged. A moment later he sighed, his breath a white fog. "It's cold out here."

"Yes, sir," Ken said with a numb voice. Amen turned to look at the Ambassador, stuffing his hands in his pockets as he did so.

"Just thinking. I had been painting… needed a break."

Ken nodded. Amen observed him for an instant. He stood stiffly by the door, making no move to warm himself or leave. His eyes glazed over as he stared up at the darkening sky.

"Something you needed?"

"Oh, uh-" he paused, blinking before looking at the President. "Admiral Hill contacted us… They are preparing to drop out of warp. It will begin soon."

Amen looked down, his eyes finding a spot on the floor before going back to the sky. He nodded.

With another sigh, he turned and stepped around Ken, walking back into his warm office. Breathing hot air onto his hands, he rubbed them together and sat in front of his painting.

"Black, I think."

"Sorry, sir?"

Amen looked up, having not realized he had spoken aloud. "Black. It needs more black."

Ken just nodded and crossed the office. "Is there anything you need, sir?"

Amen looked up, finding Ken by the door. "No… have a good night. Tomorrow… well, we both know what it will be like."

"Yes, sir. Good night, Mr. President."

"Good night," Amen said absent mindedly, eyes running over the painted canvas. "And red, I think."

/-/-/-/

/-_** At The Same Time **_

Admiral Hill stared out at the stars. They blurred, stretching out and warping around his ship.

The _Jamestown_ buzzed intimately under his feet. He missed his ship. Visiting his old stomping grounds was fine, but he lived for space. Being an Admiral seemed, at times, to be a mistake.

Hill sighed, turning to face the _Jamestown_'s Captain. "How much longer?"

"Not long at all, sir. We should be there in the next few minutes." He nodded and looked away.

It was a quiet night. Well, it had been. Hours before when he had boarded the ship, it had been quiet. The slow buzz of the day wearing down. The days had passed slowly, but leisurely.

Mere hours ago the stress had started, when they had passed over the border. The tension was growing with every second. Every second they grew closer…

He felt the subtle shift beneath his feet. He had served on ships- lived on ships- for so long he could feel the change in speed as it slowed.

He watched the stars. He could see them shrinking back to size. Becoming less and less distorted with each passing moment.

"Thirty seconds."

Admiral Hill nodded to himself. He let out a slow breath.

/-/-/-/

/-_** At The Same Time **_

Will groaned, shifting closer to Deanna.

He groaned again, trying to shrug away the annoyance.

The buzzing returned. Will sighed, rolling onto his back. His face scrunched up, eyes cracking up to look up at the figure towering over him. The buzzing in the back of his mind wouldn't stop. He shook his head.

"What?"

He sighed, then moaned. "Okay, okay."

Will looked over his shoulder. Deanna was blissfully unaware of the conversation around her. Pushing the blankets off, he slid his legs over the bed, taking in a sharp breath when his feet hit the cold floor.

"I'm moving. I'm moving."

He rose slowly, rubbing his face of its weariness. Yawning, Will stepped around the man. "I know. Let me get dressed. Is he still-?" Will paused as the buzzing interrupted him. "Okay. Never mind then."

Will sighed again. "Okay. Thanks. Could you-?"

The buzzing started again, stopping suddenly. Will just nodded. "I'll be out in a minute. Can you get me a transport? Thanks."

He sighed, rubbing his face. Glancing over his shoulder, he watched the man walk from the room. Then his eyes sought out Deanna. She had taken over the bed, sprawling out into his side of the bed. He smirked and shook his head.

Turning away, Will stripped out of his nightclothes and stepped into his uniform. Will was half-asleep as he shrugged the uniform into place, the actions mechanical. Rubbing his face, he grabbed his communicator off the nightstand and slapped it into place.

Silently, he leaned over the bed, kissing her forehead and smoothing down a strand of hair.

Will looked up when he heard the buzzing in the back of his head again. He ran a hand over the back of his head, trying haphazardly to smooth down his hair and, in a way, trying to stop the buzzing sound.

Then he just sighed and walked through the doors. He nodded at Mr. Homn. "Tell Deanna where I am when she wakes up. Tell her it's no big deal." The man just nodded. Then Will walked around him and out to the waiting transport.

/-/-/-/

/-_** Around The Same Time **_

"What'da we got?"

Commander Kendell looked up hearing the quiet voice. Admiral Riker marched passed the doors, approaching his station. The Commander stood. "Fifty Federation ships have just attacked the Bolius system."

"How many ships do we have in the area?"

Kendell fell into step with him, glancing at the Admiral. "Twenty are there now. Another thirty are on the way."

Blowing out a breath of air, Riker nodded. "How are they holding up?"

Kendell shook his head. He sighed and extending an arm to point Riker into the next room. The Commander walked around him, opening the door, allowing Riker a clear view inside. He noted at least a dozen officers, most were Admirals but he spotted a Captain or two.

"_Our cities are being bombarded! My people are dying!"_

Riker looked up at the voice. He recognized it as the Ta'naz of Bolius. Lex, if he remembered correctly. The blue face looked out at the crowd of Alliance Fleet officers. Riker found Admiral Jackson. He looked shaken, fighting his mind for an answer.

"We are doing are best, Ta'naz_** -**_"

"**It is not good enough… Admiral-"**

"We are doing our best, Ta'naz," Jackson repeated, this time more forcefully.

Riker looked away from the argument. Looking behind him, Commander Kendell had already retreated back to his office.

The Admiral sighed and looked over at the console next to him. A Lieutenant sat at it, hand placed over his ear. Riker glanced over the configuration- he was a communications officer. The noise was making it hard for him to listen to the dozens of voices and orders in his ear.

"Lieutenant," Riker said, tapping him on the shoulder. "Put that on speakers."

"Yes, sir." He nodded, pulling out the earpiece.

"_Our nacelle's been hit! Overload-!"_

"_We've got two on our ass!"_

"_We got ya, Jack. Hold on."_

"_I need more power to the shields, Commander!"_

"_There's nothing left for them!"_

"_Find me something!"_

"_Fire, Ensign!"_

"_Anybody want to give me some help over here?"_

"Riker, what are you doing?"

"Thought I might want to hear this."

Jackson scowled at Riker, snapping his fingers at the Lieutenant. Riker sighed, rubbing his jaw as the communications officer deactivated the comm. "Sir, shouldn't we-?"

The Admiral cut him off, turning away to look back at the Ta'naz. "We've got reinforcements on the way, just-" Jackson stopped himself. Riker leaned to see the viewscreen. A young Bolian attendant whispered into the Ta'naz's ear. It wasn't good news.

"_You should watch this."_

The Ta'naz switched to the outer cameras. They were angled up at the sky, following a black dot as it plummeted towards the surface. Riker watched, seconds passing before he could identify the object. It looked like a missile…

"What the hell is that…?"

"That's no photon torpedo."

Riker glanced at the Captain. He didn't know him. But then his attention was stolen back by the sight on the viewscreen. The black projectile exploded meters above the ground. It didn't damage anything.

"Sir!" All eyes turned to the Lieutenant. He held a hand up to his ear, eyes on Jackson. "Eighteen Mikolian ships were just reported crossing the border. No one's there to stop them!"

Riker looked to Jackson. He was biting his lip.

"_Admiral!"_ Ta'naz was on the viewscreen again. His face was pale blue. Riker could see the fear in his eyes. _"Whatever that was… a gassy fog is… we're-"_

Riker let out a breath and the viewscreen blacked out.

/-/-

Knew that whole peace thing wouldn't last...

Click on that little review button and let me know what you think of everything so far.


	20. Year 8: 2379

_Author's Note_: Here there! Hope everyone had a great father's day! Well, here's the next one. Enjoy!

**/- **

**Year Eight: 2379**

"Get him back! Get the Bolians back now!"

The Communications Officer nodded dumbly, eyes glazed and staring in a trace at the screen. But the shouting brought him back with a start and he spun in his chair, punching buttons furiously.

"Well!"

"I can't get them, sir," he said, glancing over at the Admiral. He was red faced and nervous.

"What do you mean-?"

"I mean, sir, they're not answering. Simple as that."

"Are you sure?"

He nodded. "I have a clear signal, it's just that no one is responding to it."

"Keep trying," Admiral Jackson growled. The man looked down at his console and did as ordered.

He looked back up at the Admiral. Though his back was to him, the officer kept his focus on the voices playing over the comm.

Voices blurred together, yelling and shouting for reports, phasers, and torpedoes. The young officer had never before been in an actual battle and the entire chaos confused him. He thought it impossible to comprehend anything.

"Shepard!"

The officer, startled, looked to the Admiral. "Uh- uh, nothing, sir!"

"And how would you know if you're not looking?" Jackson turned back to the viewscreen. With a sigh, he glanced at Riker, hearing Jackson whisper, "It would seem that the die is again cast."

/-/-/-/

"Report!"

Captain Dezmond pulled himself off the floor, glancing over at Commander Data, then at Lieutenant Commander Byron.

"Phasers at half! Shields stable at eighty-seven percent!"

"Photon spread!"

Byron nodded his head at the console. He clutched the edge as the _Enterprise_ shook violently under the strain of bombardment. Hiss head whipped back before he regained his balance.

The tactical officer spared only a glance at the screen to see that he barely made a dent in their shields. His eyes were back on his console, translating the data as quickly as he could.

"Commander-!"

Byron's console sparked, the bridge trembling knocking him onto his back. He winced as his head slammed onto the ground, then groaned as he felt the burning on his hand.

"Phasers! Full spread!"

Byron shook his head and forced himself up. Sing his left hand, he fumbled to follow the order. "Phasers are down, sir!"

"Torpedoes, then!" Dezmond slapped the combadge on his chest, "Commander LaForge, I need those phasers back!"

"We're a little busy down here! Give us a minute!"

/-/-/-/

Geordie barely continued his annoyance as he tossed the hyper spanner at Barclay. The man caught it, amazingly as his hands were shaking with fear.

Years onboard a starship had yet to force the man to relinquish his fears that a battle brought on. He was getting better, Geordie had to admit, but he still trembled and his stuttering increased.

"We don't have a minute!" he heard Captain Dezmond shout from the combadge on his chest. Geordie sighed just before the connection was cut. Dezmond was a hard man to get along with. He was strict and when he said he wanted something, he meant at that very moment.

Geordie swallowed hard as he looked over the console. He glanced at Barclay, who wasn't quite finished, then back at the console. He sighed.

He room shook. He stretched out a hand to catch himself, wincing in pain when he hit the floor.

"Are you okay, Commander?"

"Just keep working!"

Geordie rolled onto his back, nursing his injured wrist. He wasn't sure if it was broken or not, but he didn't care at that moment. His ship was falling apart under him.

/-/-/-/

"Take her out!"

Jayton heard his orders echo through the bridge, ignored by all but his tactical officer, Commander Tette.

Five bolts of light sailed swiftly through the air, fizzing slightly as they passed through the nearly nonexistence shields. Five bursts of exploding torpedoes light the ship before it started to crumble and explode.

"Helm… find us another target for Commander Tette."

"Aye, sir." The Helm officer's fingers danced over the console and the _Fitzgerald _passed through the fire and debris of the newly destroyed ship.

Jayton allowed himself a slightly smirk. It wasn't that he enjoyed killing or enjoyed battle; it was simply that his enemy was one ship down and he was one step closer to getting his crew out alive.

He glanced up at Lieutenant Commander Tette, the man standing confidently behind his tactical station. Jayton opened his mouth to give his next order, but his voice faltered at the sudden shift of Tette's stance.

Jayton turned on his heels. He counted at least thirty ships. There were almost certainly more. He recognized the design.

"Aw, shit."

/-/-/-/

"We can't touch them. Phasers are just… absorbed…"

Riker looked over at Admiral Jackson, brow creased into a frown. He turned back to the viewscreen. The battle was displayed from the view of the _O'Neill_. Starfleet starships curved and angled away from the ship.

His head titled as he watched the battle. Riker's eyes were pulled to the sight just a few thousand kilometers away.

He recognized the design easily from over the years. Mikolian design.

"… _We can't penetrate their shields! …" _

Three Mikolian ships ripped through the haul of the Bolian starship, _Sekmal_, just beside the _O'Neill_. The _Sekmal_ exploded in a ball of fire, then imploded in on itself. The sight was familiar. The sight of his own beautiful ship- home- destroyed was burned into his memory.

"… _They're tearing us apart! …"_

The _O'Neill_ fired photon torpedo after phonton torpedo, firing its phasers at the same time but to no avail. The Mikolian ships were practically undamaged.

Riker vaguely heard the others around him giving commands, but he was simply watching.

"… _Nothing's touching them…"_

"… _Our shields are down! …"_

Riker blinked, then stepped up to the Communications Officer sitting next to him at his console. "Tell them to target their underside. The ships are weak there."

He nodded and repeated the order.

Riker looked to the viewscreen to watch at the _O'Neill_ targeted all their effort at the ship's underside… but nothing happened.

He let out a breath, face falling faster than his stomach.

"… _we can't-… they're too-…" _

The voice of _O'Neill_'s Captain crackled and broke off. Riker saw five torpedoes flying towards the _O'Neill_ before the screen went blank.

/-/-/-/

Geordie grunted with pain as he was knocked to the ground. He banged his shoulder against the wall, jostling his injured wrist.

"Barclay!"

"Yes, sir?"

"Come with me." Barclay nodded absently, quickly tossing the cover back over the exposed conduits. He tossed the tool back into its case, throwing the strap over his shoulder, and half-ran after the Chief Engineer.

"Where are we going?"

Geordie ignored him, starting up the lift. Barclay stared up at the ceiling- he was afraid of heights.

Taking in a deep breath, he cringed when the ship shook again. Another hit. His count was up in the two hundreds already.

A slight whimper escaped him when they shook again. He shut his eyes tight and clutched to the strap around his shoulder. He was jostled again. His shoulders shook and his shut his eyes tighter.

"Barclay!"

"What?"

"We're here." He opened his eyes and noticed that the lift had stopped- the ship hadn't been hit. Until, of course, he stepped onto the catwalk. The ship was shook so violently that he was tossed against the rail. He grabbed onto it, waiting until he could move again.

But Geordie was already pulling himself along. Barclay took a deep breath and followed behind.

They worked for a five minutes at the far wall, re-routing power and repairing the damaged circuits. Barclay had understood once he saw where they were going, what Geordie was doing- they were fixing the phasers.

Every time they were hit- Barclay counted two hundred and thirty-two times- he winced but continued working.

"Geordie! I need-"

"Already on it, sir. Just one… more…" Barclay pulled his hand back as Geordie finished. "Got it! You've got phasers!"

Barclay sighed in relief, overhearing Captain Dezmond shout at the tactical officer. He wasn't paying attention any longer, instead he was looking down at the main engineering floor…

/-/-/-/

"… _seven more ships just dropped out of warp… they're ours…"_

Riker sighed in relief at hearing re-enforcements had arrived, but knew that they were still vastly out numbered. More were on they're way… but would they get there on time?

"_Ten more just dropped out of warp on our port."_

Riker looked up at the voice. He hadn't seen nor heard from Captain Jayton since he had become an Admiral. Jayton had been a good friend of his, a colleague. He had nearly broken down when he saw the _Roddenberry _destroyed- he hadn't known Jayton would be away.

He looked up at the viewscreen- now looking out from the _Missouri_'s perspective- to see Jayton's ship, the _Fitzgeral_, newly flanked by ten more ships.

Riker shook his head slowly. Bolius was gone. There was no way to win the battle. "Sir, I think it's time to-"

"To what? Give up? Seventeen more ships just entered the battle."

"And they're going to do what against those Mikolian ships?"

Jackson just looked back at the screen, muttering something before he announced to the rest of the room, "We're not going to lose Bolius. Not today, we're not!"

/-/-/-/

Dezmond grinned at the viewscreen, the battle momentarily forgotten, as he watched the Starfleet ships jump to warp.

"Well, seems like half the party just left, Admiral Jackson," he said to the air, knowing that those on Betazed would hear him. "It's just us, the Klingons, and the Mikolians left."

"_More ale for us then,"_ he heard someone joke over the comm. He didn't recognize the voice, but that didn't matter.

Within a blink of the eye, though, Dezmond was back into Captain mode and was marching back to his chair, ordering, "Well, Byron, what do you say we kick the trouble makers out, huh?"

The Betazoid nodded, having already started on what he knew the Captain would want. It made it easier for him to be a step ahead of his Captain, but Dezmond didn't seem to have quite grasped the potential of the situation yet.

"Turn us about, Helm."

"Aye, sir."

Byron glanced up at the screen as it seemed to pan to the right, no longer showing him where the Starfleet ships had been, but where at least ten Mikolian ships now were.

"Byron…" He nodded, careful not to bother his left hand as he worked. He glanced up with a smirk as the two photon torpedoes made a direct hit. "Bull's eye."

"Sir?"

Dezmond just shook his head with a smirk and Byron shrugged it off, his attention back of the Mikolian ship. It was still undamaged and coming towards them.

"Another photon spread, Commander. Larger this time."

"Aye, sir." He did as ordered, but to no avail.

"Again, Byron." Byron's hand was on the console, punching numbers and sequences as fast as he could. But Dezmond's words caught his attention and his head whipped up to look at the screen. "Crap."

/-/-/-/

The floor shook violently beneath her feet, causing Dr. Crusher to stumble and catch herself on the nearest biobed.

Groaning in frustration, Crusher looked up at the patients around her, shouting out orders to the nurses and other doctors scurrying around.

Crusher felt a chill run through her body as she worked her way through the hordes of people wandering and being carried into her sickbay. She glanced them over, directing them to where they were needed.

She felt her mouth moved, felt herself forming words and shouting them. But none of her words seemed to make it to her ears.

The room was noisy, people were yelling and screaming, some crying, others were yelling out orders. Instruments hummed as they worked to save lives.

Crusher worked her way around a biobed, looking down at the young Lieutenant. His face, hands, and chest were badly burned. He was squirming, eyes shut tight and jaw clenched in pain.

"Give him a sedative and put something on those wounds!" She knew she had said, but she didn't hear the words. The nurse just nodded at her. Crusher didn't look to see if she was doing as told because her gaze had suddenly found itself on the other side of the Sickbay.

The noise seemed to disappear around her. A mere second of time passed, and yet Crusher could have sworn it lasted hours. All noise faded to a soft hum; people scurried around her and yet she barely noticed them.

It was still- silent, for just that second.

And then, as quickly and suddenly as the noise had disappeared, it exploded. Sound came crashing back and the wall exploded in on them. Crusher felt the flash and the burn. She had no time to react and felt herself flying before darkness over came her.

/-/-/-/

The smoke was thick, black. It hung close to the ground, leaving pockets of sight. Sparks flew from the consoles and a small fire was raging in the back.

But Data stood unperturbed by these things. He stood slowly from where he had been forced to the ground moments ago.

He glanced around himself, android eyes registering the damage and quickly deducing their condition. He looked behind him to find his tactical officer, Lieutenant Byron,standing slowly, wincing in pain but shaking it off.

"What is our condition, Lieutenant?"

He looked down, hiding a small groan of pain at the movement. "Desks one through fifteen on the port side were hit. Forceshields holding. Shields are down to twenty-three percent. Phasers are barely functioning. We're dead, sir."

"Impulse engines?" Byron nodded. "Helm," Data said, turning toward the console. The Helm's officer hadn't moved. Looking to the ops officer, he said, "Back us off from the fighting."

"Yes, sir."

Data turned back around, android eyes moving fast in thought. He paused, looking around himself. Byron looked down at him, having never known the android to appear lost.

"Where's the Captain?" he finally asked.

Data didn't answer, but bent down. A body was sprawled over the edge of the tactical station. Its face was in the ground, one arm pinned under it, the other awkwardly pulled behind it. Data slowly pushed the body onto its back to find that it was, indeed, Captain Dezmond.

A piece of debris was sticking out of his side, blood pooling around him. Data noticed the slight movement of his chest and moved his cold fingers to find a weak pulse.

"Captain?" The man just moaned, cracking his eyes opened slightly. Data tapped his combadge, "Data to Sickbay." His brows furrowed when he received no answer. "Data to Sickbay. The Captain is injured. Can anyone hear me? Data to Sickbay-"

He stopped only when Dezmond grabbed his arm. Data was shocked to find he had any energy left in him. With the slightly shake of his head, his eyes slid closed.

Data looked at him for one last moment before standing and looking to Byron for a further report.

/-/-/-/

Riker held his breath, staring out the viewscreen of the Missouri. He couldn't see the Enterprise from their angle. He didn't know how bad they had been hit.

But no one was talking or answering hails.

He sucked in a lungful of air and surveyed what he could see. Three Mikolian ships were attacking two Alliance ships; the Starfleet ships had retreated, but Riker knew it wasn't because they were scared off or overly damaged; the Klingons were putting up a brave fight but simply being sliced in half.

He half-listened, half-ignored the words filtering in the room over the comm. They confirmed what he was thinking, only they're voices held the fear that was growing in his stomach. One Captain's voice sound so young- perhaps he wasn't a Captain at all- but it shook with fear just before he was cut off.

Riker swallowed and looked away. Breathing in, he looked to Admiral Jackson. The man was staring at the battle.

"Admiral."

Jackson didn't look at him. He took another breath and tried again, only louder.

"Admiral."

Jackson was still watching the battle, shouting orders to those around him.

"Sir!" Suddenly not only Admiral Jackson, but several other Admirals and officers were looking at him. But Riker kept his gaze on Jackson and said slowly, "We should order them to retreat."

"What?"

"They're dead if they don't!"

"What about those advancements. Those… that _Voyager_ ship?"

Riker shook his head slowly. "Not done. Not even _Voyager_ is fit to fight right now."

Jackson hung his head, slowly looking to the blank viewscreen. He was taking too much time; he was killing people with his indecision. Riker wanted to yell these thoughts, but he couldn't. His body was stiff and his face was as blank as his voice had been before.

"Order them to… to retreat from the Bolius system."

/-/-/-/

/-_** Later That Night**_

It was a dark night; the two moons were covered by black clouds. The wind whipped her hair into her face and stung the exposed flesh. Her robes were tossed unceremoniously by the wind around her.

Dark eyes looked up at the dark sky. It was going to rain. Appropriated, she thought.

Lwaxana's long strides brought her up the walkway to the Bolian complex. Sometimes she forgot how far from the main building the others were. She was beginning to regret not taking the offered transport. But, honestly, she wanted the time to collect her thoughts.

Lwaxana pounded on the door, letting out a shaky breath as she waited for someone to answer. She glanced over her shoulder, waiting for a response.

It opened moments later and a young Bolian stood there. She nodded at him and stepped inside. He just watched her; she could sense the waves of sorrow emanating around him.

"I need to see Ambassador Pok."

He nodded. "This way."

She followed behind him, eyes glancing around the corridor walls. It had been a long time since she had been inside, she had forgotten how amazing it felt to step inside and be absorbed into the Bolian culture. She felt as if she had stepped inside and landed on Bolius.

"Lwaxana."

She had never heard his voice so serious; so quiet and lost. "Pok. I have to talk to you."

"I know. I know about…" Pok swallowed. He threw a sweeping gesture of the hand to shoo the young Bolian away. "The Federation has taken control of Bolius?"

"Yes."

"Will we get her back?" There was something in his voice she could just barely hear. Something a Human would miss. But Lwaxana felt it circling around him. He was terrified.

"Yes… we will try, Pok." Lwaxana stepped forward, running her hand down his arm. "We'll try. Pok-"

"I know. They dropped that… that weapon on the capital building."

"You're Ta'Naz is-"

"Crazy? Mental? Dead? … Yes, I know that."

"That makes you… you're the Ta'Naz now, Pok. You're in charge of the-"

"Of the remaining Bolians. I know that, but what am I going to do? I control the… the twenty here, that's it." Pok sighed, shaking his head and turned away from Lwaxana. "There is little I can do as Ta'Naz other than continue to represent my people in the Council. I will be there tomorrow."

Lwaxana nodded. She turned to leave, but then turned back to look at him. Pok's shoulders were slouched, his head hanging down, chin on chest. "Pok?"

"What?" His head lifted and his back straightened.

"We'll get her back, Pok. They're working on that now."

Pok shook his head but didn't look back at her. "Doesn't mean we can save those who died…"

"No…" Lwaxana sighed. "Good night, Pok. I… I'm sorry. I really am, Pok."

/-/-/-/

/-_** February, Two Weeks Later**_

Will sighed as he reached out to open the Infirmary door.

The day was nearly over and Will had intended to return home immediately after work. Deana was expecting him soon- if she herself was actually home- but they would assume he had just stayed late for whatever reason.

But he couldn't go home just yet. He had looked up just as he had stepped out of Alliance Fleet Headquarters and caught sight of the building out of the corner of his eye. Alliance Fleet Medical.

Enterprise was badly damaged and was sitting in spacedock orbiting Betazed's fifth moon. Her Sickbay had been hit pretty hard…

Will was sure that had been the hardest moment in his life to look down at that list and read all the names of the injured and dead on Enterprise…

Crusher, Beverly; Commander, MD: severe burns, treatable.

"Can I come in?"

Beverly looked up, beaming when she recognized the voice. "Will! What are you doing here?"

"Well I thought I'd come in to see you. Just across the street," he finished with a shrug.

"Come in, Will." He walked in father, gingerly giving her a one armed hug. "It's good to see you again."

"Yeah, you too, Bev." He held back a sigh. "How are you?"

She just shrugged and looked away. Will got the impression that she didn't want to talk about what happened on Enterprise.

"You're lookin' pretty good."

"The burns weren't too bad." Beverly stopped and looked down at her hands playing with the bed-covers. He glanced down to see that they were wrapped in white gaze. He looked back up to her face. It was a lightly shaded red.

"So is it true what they say?" he said quietly. Beverly looked up at him, eyeing him oddly at the tone of mischief in his voice. "That doctors make horrible patients."

Beverly laughed heartedly with him, finally controlling her breathing when a pained look crossed her face.

"How is the Enterprise doing?"

Will's face fell, but he forced a smile before Beverly looked at him. "Okay… I guess… she's in spacedock. She'll be up and running in no time." Will didn't quite meet her eye for he was almost certain that she tell just by his voice that he was lying.

"I should be out of here tomorrow."

"Good… good. Well… drop by the house. Deanna will be delighted."

Beverly smiled and nodded. "I will."

"Good. See you tomorrow."

"Hopefully."

Will shook his head. "Tomorrow."

"Hey, Will!" He heard behind him. Turning around, he saw her looking at him. Leaning back in to the room, she asked, "How many others?"

He swallowed. "From Enterprise? …" His voice trailed off but he saw no reason to lie to her. With a deep breath, "Thirty-seven dead… fifty-four wounded." He watched her eyes fall closed and her lips move in a silent prayer. "Including Captain Dezmond."

"How bad?"

Will shook his head. "Bad."

"Thank-you… they wouldn't tell me anything."

Will nodded. "I should go. Bye."

"It was nice to see you."

"I'll see you later."

He nodded again, taking the time to throw a grin back at Beverly before walking out. He paused halfway down the corridor. The mummers of computers and pulsing of medical equipment caught his attention. He looked to his right. Captain Dezmond was unconscious on the bed, breathing shallow and artificial. The nurse who was working on him looked up, scowled slightly, and closed the door.

/-/-/-/

/-_** The Next Night**_

Beverly felt rather foolish walking up the walkway. She had never really been on Betazed before and had never gone to Deanna's mother's house before. She had, of course, been invited but had declined the offer.

She hadn't even seen Deanna in person in nearly a year- not since Captain Dezmond had taken command. Even before that, it had been years of periodic visits and chats over the comm. And the children hardly knew her- and they were so big the last time, she couldn't imagine how they would look now.

Beverly breathed in the fresh Betazoid air. She hadn't been planet-side in a year either and had then been cooped up in Alliance Fleet Medical for a week. After she had been released, she had walked to the temporary quarters. It had been nearly half a kilometer away, but she had enjoyed the cool breeze and brisk walk.

The door was a manually opened door- odd for the modern style but a perfect reflection of Lwaxana Troi, in her opinion.

She reached out a hand to knock, but the door disappeared before her knuckles reached it. She suppressed a startled gasp when she looked up to find the towering figure she barely recalled was named Mr. Homn.

He stepped aside to allow her in. Beverly took a few hesitant steps around him and into the entrance hall. The hall was huge, as she expected it might be. Tapestries hung on the walls, decorating the room with vibrant hues of red, purple, blues, and other Betazoid colors.

Beverly's attention was turned away from the house by the sound of children laughing and a female voice shouting, "Elizabeth, stop chasing your brother. Chamberlain!" Just then, the owner of the voice appeared through the doors, smiling when she noticed Beverly. "You're early."

"Hope that's okay."

"Yeah. Come in, come in. Oh, I see you've meet Mr. Homn." Beverly just nodded at the tall man, awkwardly holding her hands at her sides. They were still sore and red but no longer bandaged. "The kids ware playing outside and Will is around somewhere… And you've meet my mother before?"

"Yes, on the _Enterprise_."

"Good… Dinner will be ready in a bit. Why don't we go outside? Who knows what those children of mine are up to?"

Beverly smiled and laughed with her old friend. It felt almost like old times again.

/-/-/-/

"… well Data's been using his emotion chip more often now. Not on duty- he doesn't want it to affect his work- but it's always on when he's in his room or spending time with the crew."

"He didn't use it all the time before?"

Beverly shook her head as she leaned forward in the patio chair. It was a warm night and she, Will, and Deanna had retired to the garden patio after the kids had been brought up to bed by Lwaxana. Beverly swirled her drink as she relived the past year for her friends.

"No, not so much," she told Deanna, "he would if we were in Ten Forward or playing poker or something, but not half as much as he does now. You know, poker nights aren't as much fun any more without all of you there." Beverly's face fell some when she realized she had included one more person than she had intended. But she covered herself quickly, noticing that both Will and Deanna had understood the slip as well. "But you'd be surprised at how well Commander Byron is at the game."

"Who's Commander Byron?" Deanna asked, sipping at a pink Betazoid drink.

"The Chief Tactical Officer for the past… two years, I think. Really sweet, but young." Deanna nodded understandingly. So many young men and women had joined up after the Alliance had been formed and the war had started. Too many were moving up quickly because of deaths.

"Anyone else join in the games?"

Beverly nodded, swallowing before answering Will. "Lieutenant Andrews- she's the new Helm Officer- comes and play now and then. Same with Reggie."

"Lieutenant Barclay plays poker?"

"Yeah. He's not too bad either."

Deanna chuckled at the thought. "How is he doing?"

Beverly nodded thoughtfully, shrugging as she answered, "Okay, I guess. I think he misses you though." Deanna smiled. The three fell into a short silence, interrupted by Beverly suddenly announcing, "Those kids have gotten so big!"

Deanna grinned, while Will gave a short chuckle. "I know. I keep thinking Liz's first birthday was just a week ago."

Beverly smiled sadly. "It's been a while since I've seen them…" she trailed off, thinking, not for the first time, about how much everything had changed in the last year. "Well, it's getting late," she announced, setting her glass on the table in a prelude to standing, "I should really get going."

Deanna followed suit and stood with her. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah. It was really great seeing you two again. And the kids and your mother," Beverly said with a smile as she wrapped her arms around Deanna, rubbing her back fondly before braking away after an appropriate amount of time.

"It was. You should come by again soon. Whenever you want."

"I'll keep that in mind. Will," she turned and wrapped her arms around his neck, smiling when he whispered good-bye in her ear. "Bye."

"See you soon."

"Yeah," she said with a nod.

"I'll walk you to the door."

Will smiled as Beverly walked away, Deanna a step ahead. Beverly turned and waved at him. He waved back and a minute later she was back inside.


	21. Year 8: 2379, continued

_Author's Note:_ Since Zara08 asked so nicely, I thought I'd post this next one. Hope you enjoy!

/-/-/-/

/- _**March, One Month Later**_

"Are you sure this is a wise plan, sir? They might not appreciated being lied to-"

"I'm telling them the truth. What they want- no, need to be told. How will they not appreciate it, Admiral?"

Hill huffed, looking to Ken Smith for support. But the Ambassador was still, ignoring his search.

"They've been lied to. Their sons and daughters have died for a secret war. Now you're about to go out there and admit to it in such a casual way. People won't react to this news well." Amen seemed to nod as if he understood and agreed. Hill continued, encouraged by this, and said, "They'll be furious. They'll blame you- guaranteeing that you'll never be re-elected- if you can manage to even get on the ticket for a third term. Those in power who haven't agreed with this war will use the public to stop it. It'll be stopped long before it ever started."

"Yes, Admiral," Amen said slowly, turning to look at the grey haired man, "I am aware of all this."

"Mr. President?" He turned at the sound of the timid voice. A handsome young brunette stood in the doorway. "They're ready."

At this, the President nodded and the young man walked away. He glanced over his shoulder, not bothering to look at the Admiral but nodded at Ken. Then, holding out his chest, raising his chin and placing a smile on his face, he marched out onto the stage, waving to the cameras. Ken sauntered out, mimicking the posture and smiling at the cameras flashing up at him.

Amen easily found his place behind the podium, gripping the sides as he looked over the sea of reporters. He let his smile falter some as he took a deep breath. Glancing over his shoulders, the three Ambassadors were standing obediently at his side. He smiled wider and began.

"Greetings to the people of the Federation. I am President Amen of the planet Earth. Standing beside me are the three members of the Federation Council. Ambassador Kennith Smith of Earth. Ambassador Tyls Ry'ok of the D'Karaian people and Ambassador Ix'au of the Hai'di.

"I know that this… press briefing has not been well explained… we are here today to tell you something that may surprise you. You have heard rumors, no doubt, but most likely tossed them aside as ridicules.

"I am here to tell you that eight years ago, Earth became an ally of the, then, newly formed Hagan government of Miko. Wait. Hold you questions. A few years later, they became an ally of the Federation."

The noise level increased. Amen shifted and cleared his throat, "But!… But that is not the most pressing of news. More rumors of this have been spread, I know. Starfleet officers telling their tales. But what they have said is true. The Federation has gone to war against the Alliance."

/-/-/-/

An eruption of noise filtered through the comm, interrupted by the cracks of static.

Riker turned and watched the reactions on the viewscreen. He had been waiting for this day and was surprised at how long it had taken to arrive… President Amen had finally announced the war to the Federation.

"Mr. President! Mr. President! Why all the secrecy? Why not let the people know about this alliance between the Earth and the Hagan?"

"_Bad timing-"_ Riker snorted, _"I did not want the alliance to sound rushed, considering the recent death of the late President Aurik. Nor did I want it to seem like it was a ploy to deflect attention from the _Enterprise_ and the renegades."_

Riker shook his head and looked away. He could have used a "deflection" back then.

Back then? Was it really so long ago? Had Captain Picard really been gone for that long?

"No, the Alliance were the aggressors in this war. Yes-?" Amen's last words caught Riker's attention. He looked quickly at the viewscreen.

"Wait! Follow up question." Riker stared at the screen. Amen shifted his weight and looked at the reporter. "What did they do and when?"

Amen paused a moment and Riker found himself holding his breath. He could hurt or help the Alliance with his next words.

"_Several things… Starting with the day they attacked the _U.S.S. Omega _and the other Federation Starships that accompanied the _Omega_. That act alone was an act of war and treason… _

"_Many of you have heard of the grounds that several former Federation planets gave to their secession_ _from this alliance. These grounds- this, so called proof- was false. Created by Riker and his renegades-"_

Amen's face suddenly disappeared from the screen. Riker scowled at the black void now in front of him. He wasn't sure how Amen's words would be taken by the people of the Federation. He didn't care. He already knew exactly what the man was going to say. He didn't want to listen to his voice anymore.

"What is it, Will?"

Riker sighed as he turned to see Deanna observing him from the study's entrance. Sometimes that was the problem with marrying an empath- she always knew when he was upset and when he was lying. "Amen announced the war."

"Really?"

"Yeah… he's back on trying to discredit me." Will tried to shrug and pass his words off as a joke, but he knew that she had seen through to the fearsburied in his thoughts.

"You're worried some people in the Alliance might take him serious?"

"They might." Deanna didn't respond and Will knew it was because she knew it was possible as well, as much as she wanted to say it wasn't.

She sighed and uncrossed her arms, closing the space between them. She didn't say anything to try and comfort him. Deanna had learned long ago that words didn't often sway his feelings. Instead, she wrapped her arms around his waist, hugging him tightly. He rested his chin in her hair.

"I hate this, Deanna," he thought as he closed his eyes, knowing she would hear the words.

"I know, Imzadi… I know…"

/-/-/-/

/-_** Around The Same Time**_

"Now wait," Jadzia sighed, holding out a hand to halt Kira's ranting. The other hand rubbed her forehead, creased brows displaying her confusion. "I thought you anonymously preformed good deeds on the Day of Surom."

Kira shook her head, the Bajoran smirking at the Trill. The Days of Kejs was her favorite week of the entire year. It had been her one request to the Captain to have the holiday celebrated publicly throughout the station. He had seen to it that many more were as well. "No, the Day of Surom is when we fast to thank the Profits for sending us the first Orb. These are The Days of Kejs. It's different."

"Right. Okay, sorry. Continue."

"Well, they of course want the Emissary to go to the capital city-"

"And he of course won't go."

"Right," Kira sighed, rolling her eyes. She understood, and yet she didn't, her Emissary's reluctance to consider himself the Emissary of the Profits. Her Gods had chosen Captain Sisko to be their emissary. Kira didn't think that, in the beginning, he understood what an honor this was. "Which just means hundreds of Bajorans are coming here."

Jadzia smiled at Kira's annoyance. "You know how he is about these things."

"But he likes them."

"Of course he likes them up here. He can escape to us or his office or quarters. On Bajor he knows there's no escaping."

"True. I just wish…" Kira sighed as she trailed off, her thought having no intended end.

"You wish what? That Benjamin would open up to the Bajorans a bit more?" Kira just shrugged. He wasn't Bajoran and she knew that he didn't really believe in the Profits. But still, it was frustrating on her part.

Kira shrugged, nodding before moving out of the way of a bunch of Klingons. "I don't think they're planning on joining us in the celebrations."

Dax laughed before shrugging off the topic entirely. She turned to her friend, a somewhat silly look covering her face. "So when are you and Odo going to get married?"

"Jadzia!"

"Just asking."

Kira shook her head, looking over at the passing Bajoran officer. She nodded at him and looked back to Jadzia. The Trill was smirking, putting up a pathetic attempt to hide it from her. "What?"

"Nothing…" Jadzia's voice trailed off as she shook her head. "It's just that you've been dating for a few years now and-" Kira rose her brows, looking as intimidating as she could manage. "Okay, okay, never mind."

Kira let the silence fall over them as they walked into the turbolift. All that was spoken was the level they wanted to be taken to. She rocked uneasily on the balls of her feet, clasping her hands behind her back.

Then Kira sighed, looking over at Jadzia. "So… are you ever going to have another child?"

Jadzia didn't look over at her, but Kira could see the bewilderment on her face as she thought over a response. "I'm… not sure. Never really… Julian and I haven't talked about it. Why?"

Kira just shrugged. She wasn't sure where the question had come from. "Kind of went along with marriage."

"Okay," Jadzia drawled out, glancing to her side. She observed the door, knowing out of habit that hers was next. "Bye, Kira."

"See you later, Dax."

Jadzia smiled, shaking her head some, as she turned away from Kira and into her quarters.

She paused, her smile widening. Letting out the quietest of chuckles, she crossed her arms over her chest. Then, with a few steps taking her farther into the room, she grinned at her two men.

They sat on the couch, side by side. Julian's legs were crossed as he starred intently down at his PADD. His stylus was between his teeth is other hand was tapping on the armrest. JJ mimicked the action, tapping on the armrest as he looked down at his book.

"Aren't you two adorable."

Both looked up at the same time. JJ smiled widely. Julian dropped his stylus into his lap- he was smiling at her. Jadzia shook her head when she noticed that JJ had Julian's smile.

"Hey, I thought you and Kira…"

She shrugged. "We finished early."

"Mum!" He even had his father's beautiful accent.

"Hey, sweetie. What are you reading?"

/-/-/-/

/-_** April, One Month Later**_

He felt it long before he registered what had happened.

It burned first. Burned beyond reason as if a flame had been touched to his back. He could feel it, the flame digging deeper into his flesh.

He felt his breath catch, but he wasn't thinking about breathing. His mind was solely focused on the flame.

Then, suddenly, the flame retracted, leaving searing pain burning over his back. Air surged into his lungs. His eyes stared forwards as he released a breath.

Hot blood oozed from his back, flowing over the burning skin.

It was then that he understood. Realized…

He turned, but his body was slow and sluggish. The movement took a lifetime. And yet his attacker was still there, his face masked by the shadows and darkness of the night.

He imagined, in so brief a moment, that the man- Mikolian, as his brain depicted- was smiling. No, smirking. A smug, satisfied smirk of a true killer.

He could only groan, the searing pain so fresh. He tired to move, to wield his weapon against the alien. But he could not in time, for already he felt the sensation again. His stomach burned as a second flame was forced into his gut. It was the same feeling- the flame burning his blood and catching his breathe. He looked up, mouth opened in shock.

The flame was pulled out quickly, forced back in to create a third wound, searing with a brighter, hotter pain.

He forced out his breath. His lungs burned, his head was spinning. Blood sputtered form his mouth. The taste of iron fresh and strong on his lips. He swallowed, nearly choking on his own blood.

Reality blurred around him. His attacker's form distorted, then disappeared.

He stumbled back. White pain blinded him. He turned and fell to his knees.

Pain fell to a numbing sensation, his vision returned as a distorted image pulling and stretching the world.

Bodies surround him. Face turned in the mud. Eyes staring forward, void of life. Blood mixed between friend and foe.

Cries of pain. Moans of death. Slicing and slashing of blades. Clattering of armor. Grunts and groans. Explosions.

All noise faded. It was nothing more than a buzzing.

Heavy smoke burned his eyes. The smell of blood- iron- was sent in waves to attack his nose.

It too faded.

The bodies, the blood, the smoke, and the hidden sky disappeared, fading into nothingness. He reached out his one hand, a name muttered on his lips, then he fell, eyes opened and face in the dirt.

/-/-/-/

/-_** Hours Later**_

Glass clattered noisily in the room.

A smile glowed on the faces as the toast was announced. The group took a generous sip of the drink.

"Cheers to victory! A job well done, gentlemen, a job well done."

Riker stood just behind Admiral Jackson. He gave a short nod, taking only a small sip of the ale. He hardly agreed with the Admiral.

"Birjis'hram is a tremendous victory for the Alliance. Tremendous. But it will be hard to hold her."

"We will, Admiral. Don't worry about that." Riker looked over at the Captain. One of the younger ones, but one Alliance Fleet felt was well suited to be commander of Delta Fleet- nearly a twelfth of the fleet.

Riker merely rolled his eyes at the statement. His efforts were nearly laughable. The fact that he won was quite the miracle. Forty-two hundred dead. Just over thirteen hundred Alliance personnel. Fifteen hundred civilians. Laughable at best.

Starfleet- Amen- wanted the planet. It was a priceless piece of land. They would fight, and fight hard, for it back.

But Jackson, and Captain Black, didn't care to listen to Riker. They saw only victory, they were blind to death. He was sure that, at times, they were also quite blind to an obviously imminent threat.

More cheers erupted around the room. Laughter at some joke lost upon Riker. Another toast, more drinking.

Riker sighed, staring down into the red ale. He did not want to drown his sorrows in synthehol, although he seemed the only one with sorrows there.

Let them have their break from stress, he thought, retaliation was days- weeks- away. It seemed to them that the dead would wait and the dying would understand.

/-/-/-/

/-_** A Week Later**_

Dr. Salizhan sighed when she walked in the room. Glancing around, she was relieved to finally see the object of her quest.

Lieutenant Commander Emily Reed stood over her console, watching as the computer rapidly sent back numbers.

"Commander?"

Reed didn't turn away. Instead she reached her arm up behind her, holding up her hand. "Just… one second."

Sal nodded, taking in a deep breath as Reed continued her work. She rocked back on her heels, clicking her tongue, and shoving her hands in her pockets.

Grey purple eyes turned away from the Human's back. The mechanical irises shifted, letting in less light. The lab was big enough, though Sal knew Reed was forced to share it with several others.

"Sorry, I've just been waiting for that all day."

"Anything good?" Reed shrugged, Sal just nodded, then pulled her hands from her pockets.

"You need something?"

"Yeah. You."

Reed paused a moment, as if trying to shake off some thought before saying, "Okay… What for?"

"You wouldn't be interested in commanding your own team to examine victims and their worlds, would you?"

Reed just stared blankly at Sal for a moment. Then, slowly, a smile came to her face. She grinned. Sal grinned with her, almost laughing at her elation.

"So you wouldn't want it?"

"How… how did you get them to agree?"

Sal just shrugged. "Just remember this means you own me one."

Reed smiled wider. "What if I tell you how sexy you look right now?"

Sal pretended to consider the question, then shook her head sarcastically. "I don't think so. But thanks for the compliment."

"So my own team? How many?"

Sal's smile faltered. "Not as many as you wanted."

"How many?"

"Six."

"Six? What am I going to do with six people?"

"Well, actually… that's including yourself." Reed's face dropped and Sal quickly added, "I'll work on getting you more."

Reed sighed, shaking her head. "I'll need a security officer who knows something about medicine. I'd like a few more, but… The rest will have to be doctors. Specializing in diseases, viruses, spreading of contagious."

"You work on a list and I'll see what I can do."

Reed looked up at Sal, the words pulling her out of her muttering. She beamed. "Thank-you, thank-you, thank-you, thank-you!" Reed said in a rush, voice high and childish.

Sal smiled. "No problem."

/-/-/-/

/-_** Around The Same Time **_

"Uh… um- M-Mr. President? How can I help you?"

Amen smirked at the doctor. "Follow me, doctor."

Keithers nodded, standing quickly from his desk chair. Hastily tossing aside his told and medical PADD, he rushed after the President.

Keithers followed in silence, watching Amen's back as he waited for the man to explain himself.

It wasn't until they entered the turbolift to leave the medlab that Amen said nothing. He turned. His eyes glanced over Keithers. The doctor stood, his back up against the wall.

"Tell me about the weapon. How does it work?"

"Well, it's rather complicated."

"Then just tell me what happens. Talk to me like I'm not a doctor."

Keithers nodded slowly. He sighed, scratching his nose. "Basically, when the torpedo explodes in mid-air, it releases a gas- for lack of a better word- into the air. This gas contains certain chemicals that- when inhaled- creates the desired results_-_"

"Which are?"

"Most people feel- probably feel a burning sensation in their lungs. Eyes and skin are also irritated as it enters the body. In the lungs, the chemicals mix with the blood and are brought to the brain. The chemicals then… basically shut down and close off the memory and language centers. They become walking zombies.

"From what we've seen, there are different degrees. Some are dangerous, some unresponsive, some just can't talk or really understand us."

"You said most react this way?"

"Right," Keithers nodded, "Sometimes- for some people- it reacts with the blood in an undesired way. We haven't actually retrieved someone with this reaction, so I am left to speculate. I believe what happens is that the mixing of the chemicals and a certain protein found in certain people cause the lungs to… liquefy. Basically, they suffocate on their own blood."

Amen nodded. He looked at the doors as they opened. Stepping out, he motioned for Keithers to follow him. "And can the Alliance doctors find a cure for this?"

"No… they shouldn't be able to."

"Shouldn't?"

"I have the notes of this thing's creation and I would be hard pressed to make one. They have nothing. See, originally this thing was designed to be completely absorbed into all living organisms. It takes a few hours- six or seven- before it… well, basically the weapon is destroyed, but not until after it has done its damage. No matter what Alliance doctors do, their scans will say that their patients are perfectly healthy."

"You said originally?"

"Yes. I've since… twicked it-"

"Twicked?"

"Now everything is still absorbed into the living organisms, but isn't entirely destroyed. By now, they will have discovered that these infected people aren't contagious. But they'll soon realize that that is no longer the case. See, now some of it lies dormant in their systems. Tactile touch is the only way to activate it."

"So touch an infected person and become infected?"

"Exactly." Keithers paused to collect his thoughts. "It takes slightly longer, but it still infects them."

"But won't they be able to find it?"

"No. They shouldn't. See, the only way to detect it on sensors should- hopefully- only be when the weapon is activated."

"So… someone would have to touch an infected person for them to locate and analyze these chemicals?"

"Right."

"Good, good. Thank-you. You may return to work." Keithers nodded, watching Amen's back as he walked away. The doctor turned around, glancing around himself, suddenly realizing that he had no idea where he was.

/-/-/-/

/-_** Two Weeks Later**_

Lieutenant Commander Reed sucked in a breath of air when she felt her body remoleculized. She shivered unconsciously. It wasn't the idea of a transporter that bothered her; it was the actual feeling that did. She hated it every time.

Quickly, she glanced around, getting her bearings. Minimal destruction around her. Most buildings were intact, no impact crater that she could tell.

With a single gesture, her six-person team split into three groups. Ensign Roger Klein followed her.

"Commander Reed to the _Clarkson_… we are searching the city for survivors now."

"_Precede with caution, Commander."_

"Aye, Captain."

She let out a sigh, nodding to Ensign Klein as they approached the Alliance Fleet building.

"What do you want to bet that they're all insane?"

Reed glared at Klein. He was a young officer- just over twenty-five. She didn't much like him, either. Especially his morbid attitude- it was unprofessional and obnoxious. He had no seriousness for their job assignment- to tag and investigate victims of the Starfleet bioweapon.

"Just open the door."

"Aye, aye, Commander."

With an over-dramatic flare, he triggered the door. Reed rolled her eyes, watching the door slid open. She knew it was men like Klein that pushed her to realizing she was gay.

An odd smell hit her when she entered the building. She walked in farther, eyes starting to sting. "What is that?" Klein just shrugged, blinking back his own tears.

"Look over there."

Reed turned. Four zombie-like figures stood around each other. They seemed to be staring off into space, oblivious to the world and the two new comers.

Klein sighed, rubbing his nose. The smell was bothering him. "Chemical of some sort?"

"You don't think something's still in the air, do you?"

Klein shrugged again, approaching the four slowly. "Never had reason to think so before."

"Great medical hypothesis." She resisted rolling her eyes, approaching the formed Alliance officers and tapping her combadge at the same time. "This is Commander Reed, we've found four. Tagging them now."

"_Very good."_

"How many did you say were here?"

"_Thirteen."_

Klein sighed, "Four down, nine to go."

"Advanced math you're doing there," Reed said sarcastically. He just scowled at her.

"_I'm glad to see we're keeping it professional down there."_

Reed bit her lip. If it wasn't for Captain Quinson's sense of humor and warm personality, Reed would like to think that she would have been smart enough to keep her mouth shut. "Sorry, sir." Then, with a deep breath, Reed grabbed one of the officer's arms, injecting him quickly with a tracer.

It was that moment, when he yelped in pain, that all four came alive. They were suddenly livid, raving and moaning and screaming wordlessly at the two doctors.

"It's okay. It's okay," she tried to convince them, sending Klein a tense look. But they continued to make a fuse. One hit Klein across the face, and while Reed wasn't sorry for the action, she was surprised, even afraid. They had observed that, in a state of madness, victims had no understanding of where to stop. They would kill if given the chance simply because they didn't realize what that was.

She grabbed Klein, dragging him by the scruff of his collar from the room. Locking the door, she looked around herself. They were in a small research lab.

"You okay?"

"Yeah. What the hell was that?"

Reed shrugged she as she heard Quinson say, _"What's going on down there, Reed?"_

"The victims we found attacked us. We'll attempt to pacify them."

"_Don't do anything rash, Commander."_

"It shouldn't be-" Reed broke off. She was suddenly overcome with an intense pain in her chest. She looked up at Klein. He seemed shock, but not by her. His face had gone pale and he was clutching at his chest.

"_Commander? Commander Reed? What's going on down there?! Reed!"_

/-/-/-/

/-_** Hours Later**_

"Sal?"

Deanna had just rounded the corner, expecting it to be empty considering the late hour, only to find Salizhan standing, PADD in hand and biting her finger as she stared down through the observation window. Deanna walked up to the doctor, glancing through the window at the dinning/recreation area where the newest nineteen victims were currently staying. They would be moved the next day when the rooms were ready.

"Salizhan," Deanna said softly, reaching out a hand to tap her arm. Mechanically, as if her mind was still far away on other things, Sal's head turned, blue scales glimmering on her neck when the light hit them. Grey-purple eyes shifted mechanically in the light. "Hey, what are you still doing here?"

"You know something?" Deanna shook her head. She knew that tone of voice- it meant Sal was feeling guilty, and often it was about things out of her control. "The only person on that planet that became violent was a Betazoid. Teyla. She was on the team to help these people… I met her once. She was very sweet… I was thinking about that… we have thirty-two violent patients, including Teyla… twenty-six are Betazoid."

"Twenty-six?"

"Out of thirty-two. Out of the other eight, six are race; two are Vulcan."

"All telepathic races… are there any other race, Vulcan, or Betazoids that aren't violent?"

Sal shook her head. "Only a couple Vulcans… most are young. The two Vulcans are fine until someone touches them."

"You think they just can't control what they're sensing?"

"Would drive you crazy, wouldn't it?"

Deanna nodded slowly. Sal looked away, focusing on the zombie-like people still wandering around the room. Deanna followed Sal's gaze spotting the person she was focused on.

"It's not your fault," Deanna said carefully. "We couldn't have known."

"We should have been more careful."

Deanna shook her head, putting her hand on Sal's shoulder. "Emily knew what she was doing. Knew the risks."

"She was my friend- a good friend. I got her the team."

"I know," Deanna sighed, "We'll figure this out, okay?"

Sal just shook her head. "It's changed."

"Changed? Sorry?"

"The weapon."

"You mean like a whole different thing?"

"No…" Sal shook her head, eyes still gazing lazily through the window. "Essentially it does the same thing, it's just been mutated. Em and her team were infected long after it was out of the atmosphere. Long after. They were touched by some of the infected victims."

"You think it's spread by touch now?"

Sal shook her head. "Not at fist. It's airborne first… everyone in this room- plus Teyla- is contagious."

/-/-/-/

/-_** June, Five Weeks Later**_

He stumbled over his feet as he tried to return to his chair. Spinning too fast, he landed unceremoniously on the armrest.

"Report!"

Captain Jayton's words were absorbed in the sudden impact of three photon torpedoes and flying sparks somewhere above his head. He winced when he felt the burning near his ears and twisted his body to fall into his chair.

"Shields at thirty percent and falling!" Lieutenant Commander Tette said from behind him. "Two more ships on our port side!"

"Damn," Jayton muttered, looking up to where the Helm and Ops officers were seated. "Helm! Evasive maneuvers!"

The ship suddenly veered and dived, sending Jayton's stomach reeling. Swallowed hard, he stood and looked out the viewscreen. He could barely see the outline of three Mikolian ships off to the left fighting part of his fleet. They had attacked out of nowhere.

He groaned when the ship lurched and his side hit the armrest harder than necessary. The ship did a series of loops. Jayton watched on the viewscreen, growing dizzy just from watching at the planet Ketrel came into view and seemingly flipped in circles.

"Garret! Get me Alliance Fleet Headquarters!"

Jayton never heard a response from the officer but, just before he looked to check on the man, the viewscreen flickered to the aged face of Admiral Jackson.

"Captain Jayton?"

"We have eight Mikolian vessels here, sir! We can hold them off much longer."

"Hold on, Captain, re-enforcements are on their way."

Jayton nodded curtly at the screen just before the Admiral disappeared, fading into the scene of battle. "Concentrate your fire on one ship, Tette," he called out to his tactical officer when he noticed that Tette was trying to fight three Mikolian ships at once.

"Aye, sir," he responded calmly.

Jayton stood and marched over to the Helm, grabbing the chair just as the ship was hit once again.

"Pattern Gamma." The man nodded and Jayton turned to walked away. He stumbled and tried to catch himself. Suddenly the ship lurched back, the Helm officer pulling them up to avoid the Mikolian phasers. Jayton lost his footing and was thrown underneath his chair, something large pinning him underneath. He winced in pain, knowing something was wrong just before darkness overtook him.

/-/-/-/

/-_** Two Weeks Later **_

"Personal Log. Stardate: 37905.03.

"So Ketrel is officially- only one month later- a member of the Alliance.

"I'm not so sure about it. Mind, we need more ships. It can't hurt these days, but I'm not sure what they can really do. I'm more worried about their motives. The Mikolians- their sworn enemy- came and killed nearly two hundred people and left, leaving every ship in the system disabled. Four days later, talks to join the Alliance begin?

"No, they just want revenge. They're in the Alliance only so they can feel like they're doing something to thwart the Mikolians. I don't know…

"What I do know is that the Council should have turned them away. But Alliance Fleet is breathing down their necks about more ships and personnel. I should know- Lwaxana is complaining about it enough.

"Anyways… well there's not really much else going on I guess…

"Liz is… well she loves school. I think it's odd for a ten year old, but I think she'll grow out of it. Gods, is she really ten? I guess so… happened three weeks ago and I'm still not over it." Will laughed as he thought back to the party. All the cake and sweets and gifts… and kids. "It felt like half her school came over for her party."

Will paused, his smile fading. "She's ten and still having weird nightmares- haven't really stopped in… three or four years? I think Deanna is tired of explaining to me about how they help her sort out what she can sense. I don't really get it; I just hope Chamberlain doesn't get them…"

Will sighed, running his hand over his neck. "Chamberlain will be four this October. Where does time go?"

Will shook his head, letting out a small chuckle as he thought. "He learned a new phrase the other day: 'no way'." Will just shook his head. "Not sure where he picked that one up, but it's kind of cute… until he's said it for the twelfth time in one sitting. Just as long as he doesn't turn into his sister who likes to say 'ce'na' every three words. I'm still not sure what it means, but I think it's Trill…

"Well it's late…. Deanna should be getting home before long, I hope. She and Dr. Salizhan are busy with the new arrivals. Back to the old problems of limited space, limited resources, and limited personnel. I barely see her any more…

"Computer, end log."

/-/-/-/

/-_** Around The Same Time **_

Captain Mansel paced his bridge, bored, as his ship did nothing but run scans. They had been assigned to the border near Mikolian space for nearly three months and the French Captain had long ago decided border patrol was a boring job he was not interested in performing. But it was a necessary evil that would last another three months.

He sighed, turning to look over at the Operation's Officer when she announced that she had Alliance Headquarters on the comm. waiting for a report.

"Admiral Jackson," he said evenly to the man sitting in front of the screen. He took a slow breath, rubbing the back of his neck. It was a gesture he had adopted when he was young- not a nervous gesture but something he did when he was bored. "Everything looks good here, sir."

"No Mikolian ships in the area? Starfleet?"

Mansel shook his head. "None, sir." It still sounded odd to him to hear the word 'Starfleet' spoken with malice. He had trouble remembering, sometimes, that Starfleet was the enemy. He honestly didn't know what he was doing in Alliance Fleet, though he knew it was a good move to leave Starfleet.

"What about the Ketrelian support? How are they working out?"

Mansel let out a silent sigh, forcing down the urge to roll his eyes. He had protested the use of such primitive and weaker ships as border patrols. He had been even more adamant when he discovered that they would be assigned to areas of both Federation and Mikolian space. He was annoyed with them long before he even got to the border- it went downhill from there. The Captains of the six Ketrelian ships were conceited bastards, in his opinion. They thought of themselves in very high regard and didn't understand the fact that they had only once ever been in a battle situation- which, he had pointed out, they'd practically lost.

"They are… well they've got a lot to learn in terms of military strategy, sir."

"But, other than that?"

Mansel sighed. He didn't care to begin another argument, especially not in front of his bridge crew. "Nothing that I would care to address at this point, sir."

"Very good. Carry on then, Captain."

"Thank-you, sir. Man- what the hell?" Admiral Jackson's face formed into a question mark as Mansel turned to see what had set off the emergency alarm.

"What is it, Captain?"

Mansel looked up at the Admiral before looking back to his tactical officer for an explanation. "The Ketrelian ships just jumped to warp."

"Heading?" Mansel asked.

The Lieutenant paused for just a moment before looking up at his Captain and answering. Mansel looked back at Admiral Jackson, his furrowed brow exaggerating the wrinkles on his aged face. "The Nitogaro System, sir… that'll take-"

"_- take them to Miko. I know…" _Jackson's voice trailed off as he nodded. _"Damn."_

/-/-/-/

"Stand down! I repeat! Stand down!"

Ziphros scowled at the voice, not caring about the fact that the Human Admiral could not see his face. "I do not have to answer to you, Admiral Jackson. I will not stand down nor will I abandon my mission."

"What mission! What you're doing is suicide! I repeat, stan-"

A quick motion of his hand silenced the Admiral. Supreme Commander Ziphros watched with a growing frown as the stars shrank back to normal size and his ship came out of warp. In an instant, weapons were firing at the Mikolian ships surrounding the planet.

Around him, his crew worked calmly, doing everything without the necessity of orders. He glanced to his left to see the young Nilaain operating the tactical station. He had no qualms with the other races of his world, but he did think of himself- a Cadda- as far more capable of the job. The young Nilaain brushed a long strand of dark hair from his eyes before looking up at the Supreme Commander.

His blue eyes were darker than normal, hiding the fear Ziphros knew his was feeling. The young officer nodded once in a curt gesture before his eyes returned to his console. Ziphros let out a slow breath before turning away, his own blue eyes staring out the viewscreen at the sphere named Miko.

"Take us to the designated coordinates!" he shouted at the Helm officer.

His ship veered, followed by several others of his command. He watched the battle take place. Several ships were giving their lives to protect the nine following his own. He watched as several dozen more Mikolian ships dropped out of warp to protect their homeworld. A twisted smile grew on his pale lips, a light shinning in his crystal eyes.

He stepped back away from the Helm console. His long limps swayed casually as he walked, the thick material of his uniform conforming awkwardly to allow the movement. He ran a hand through his thin amount of black hair before it ran down his pale cheek. He turned and sank his lean figure into the center chair. His posture was strict, his back straight and shoulders square. He kept his gaze focused straight ahead and his chin up as he waited and watched… watched as Miko's sun grew larger in the viewscreen as his ship grew closer.

Yes, the Admiral was correct. It was a suicide mission, but one the Human Admiral could not understand… that was what Ziphros thought minutes before his ship and nine others was exploded in a brilliant ball of light, sending waves of violent shockwaves into the sun just as planned.

Seconds later, nothing remained of the Nitogaro System…

/-/-/-/

/-_** July, Two Weeks Later**_

"What in Darina were you thinking?!"

"We didn't tell them to attack the Mikolian's homeworld!"

"No! But I doubt you stopped it!"

"Why would we? They're fleet has been momentarily crippled. They have lost their homeworld-"

"And now they're more than pissed," a quiet voice said from behind the bickering Ambassadors.

Lwaxana leaned to look over the Ketrelian Ambassador's shoulder to see the uniform of an Alliance Fleet officer. She snickered. This matter was none of their business, but they often didn't see it that way.

"If I may?" He said kindly, bowing his head just slightly at Lwaxana. She sighed, face impassive as she recovered from her yelling. "I don't agree with the Ketrelians for going after the Mikolians. That was irresponsible. Now their own fleet is crippled and they have little resources to fix it. We hardly have much to spare. Our ships are limited, they're borders are now barely protected, and the Mikolians will surely want revenge."

He took a pause, just long enough to take a breath and collect his thoughts. Lwaxana was watching him intently. She didn't even know his name- only that he appeared to be a rather young Captain. He wore red and obviously had some diplomatic skills, judging by the scolding, yet gentle tone of his voice. His face was wrinkled, but held a youth to it that made Lwaxana question his age. He stood with his back straight and shoulders square and with an air of confidence Lwaxana had found in most Human Captains, but he did not stand very tall. She would imagine that he stood just passed her shoulder.

The Captain took a few steps towards the table. By then, all three Ketrelian Ambassadors were watching him- it annoyed Lwaxana that the planet could not unite enough to send only one, and annoyed her more that the Alliance was willing to accept that.

"You have, however, done Alliance Fleet a great favor. The Mikolians will be licking their wounds for a while. Their defenses will be down and they wouldn't have half as many advanced ships as we originally planned on. For that, we're grateful you acted rashly."

"Excuse me, Captain, but what are you doing in here?"

"Well, Ambassador, I couldn't help but overhear your argument from outside- I just got out of a meeting-"

"I don't care what you just did." Lwaxana was surprised by her own harshness, but the Captain was annoying her, the Ketrelians were annoying her, the Alliance was annoying her, everything was annoying her. "Why are you here?"

"I just thought I might point out a few things…" His voice trailed off and Lwaxana could sense that his mind was not disciplined enough to hide his final words. She scowled at him, but he didn't seem overly taken aback by the action.

"You've done just that, Captain. If you wouldn't mind."

The Captain shrugged. She could tell he was holding back a smug grin; she could feel it just on the edge of his mind. With another bow to the table, he turned on his heels and walked towards the door.

Lwaxana pulled her thoughts away from the man, looking back at the table with the four other members of the Council and three Ketrelians across from her. She had nothing else to say. Annoyingly enough, the Captain had said it all for her.

She groaned, tilting her head to the side. She didn't realize until she was standing again and half way to the door that she had excused herself.

"Captain?"

The man spun around. She could sense his surprise and amusement at hearing her voice. "Yes, ma'am?"

Lwaxana resisted scowling at the word, deciding she didn't much feeling like scolding him for something as trivialas that. "What's your name?"

"Captain Brian Baylie. Field commander of the Beta Fleet."

"Good for you… I still want to know what you were thinking, walking into my Council Chambers like that. Uninvited and unannounced."

The Captain- Baylie- glanced down at his shoes before finding her eyes again. "I can't honestly give you an answer to that, ma'am-"

"Ambassador Troi."

"Sorry, Ambassador. You just didn't seem to be getting very far with them. I thought you might like some help-"

"You thought wrong."

"I apologize then. If you'll excuse me?" She could sense his embarrassment, but that hardly considered her. It angered her some that he actually held no guilt for his actions, but intrigued her at how well he was taking the reprimand. But then she was annoyed again at the fact that he decided he had more important things to be doing.

"Fine. But next time I see you in the Council Chambers, you better have been invited."

"Yes, ma- Ambassador." He gave a curt nod, waited just a moment before turning on his heels for a second time and marching away.

Lwaxana just stood there, mentally annoyed with herself at her actions. There really hadn't been a need. And he had been right… they wouldn't have gotten as far even after another hour. And this fact alone angered her.

She was angry at the world and the galaxy and every star in the universe, and yelling did her no good.

/-/-/-/

/-_** Around The Same Time**_

He sighed and ran a hand over his face. It was late. Really late. So late Will was almost certain it was well into the morning.

He called out softly to the computer, eyes closed and head in his hands, elbows resting on his thighs. He winced at the computer's volume- he personally wanted one that matched the user's volume- when the female voice told him, "The time is three-thirty-two." Will just groaned.

He didn't moved for a long time as he tried to stay awake long enough to gather the energy to stand.

Deanna still wasn't home. He had intended on working just until she got back- suffice to say, he hadn't stopped working since the kids went to bed. He didn't mind catching up with work, but he was worried about his wife. She was spending later and later hours at the medical center. He understood why, but he never got to see her, and the kids saw her even less. There were times when he questioned why he bothered taking the assignment on Betazed.

His tired feet lead him through the halls on autopilot as his brain had shut down hours ago. Rubbing the exhaustion from his face, he did everything he could to suppress a yawn but failed in the attempt. He paused as he yawned and, without knowing what possessed him, he turned out into the garden.

It was a cool night, as it was most every night in the past weeks. A light breeze was playing through the plants. He stepped out, inhaling the scent of freshly fallen rain and the variety of plants before him, closing his eyes as the wind caressed his cheek and played with his hair.

Another yawn overcame him, but he didn't try to beat it down. He turned his head as he sucked in a deep breath, intending to turn around and go to bed. But the sight before him halted this thought before he even realized he was thinking it.

"Deanna?" The dark figure didn't move, but Will walked up to it. As he grew closer, the light reflecting off the moons allowed him to see Deanna sitting rigidly on the bench, her back to him and still wearing her Alliance Fleet uniform. "What are you doing out here this late?"

Again, she didn't respond with words, but she did lower her head. Will sighed, his mind working, albeit slowly, for the first time in hours. He walked around her, taking a seat next to her on the bench. It was then that he noticed it was the same one he had often meet her at when she would sneak out of her house to see him. Those days seemed like a lifetime ago.

"I don't know what I'm doing."

"Sorry?"

Will watched her. He could faintly see all the emotions running over her face in the moonlight. If the situation were any different, he would have commented on how beautiful she looked sitting there, but he was too worried to truly think about it.

"With our patients," she said suddenly. She still wasn't looking at him, but Will just watched her as she stared at her hands as they played with some invisible object. "They… I can't help them… I don't know what I'm doing there. It's changed, the weapon. I told you about that."

"Yeah," Will nodded. He didn't know what had happened, but he had almost expected her to breakdown at some point. She wasn't weak- he didn't think that at all. But he wasn't blind to the stress she was constantly under. He just couldn't imagine what her friend, Dr. Salizhan, was feeling at the moment.

"We didn't know what to do about it before… now…" her voice trailed off. Will knew what she was thinking; she had spoken about her fears briefly over the years. About how far from anything they had been since the beginning. They weren't getting any closer, and lately they seemed to be getting farther away.

Will had nothing to say. So, rather than words, he merely draped his arm over her shoulders, drawing her closer to him. His cheek fell naturally against her dark curls as he rubbed her one arm. "Come on, let's go inside. It's late." She nodded against his shoulder but didn't move at first. Then, slowly, she broke away from him. He smiled reassuringly at her when she turned back around to look at him. He felt his eyelids drooping and noticed her smile for just a second- he assumed at the sight of him. Then Will stood and, taking her hand, walked her back into the house.

/-/-/-/

/-_** Around The Same Time **_

"Have a seat." Azia looked at the Human President, who had stood when he entered. Commander Azia entered the office most every day, and every day the man offered him a seat. Every day, he declined. "No really. Sit down," Amen continued. Azia rose an eyebrow, unnoticed by the Human, but sank down into the chair. "How are you doing?"

"Doing?"

"Well, you're homeworld was just destroyed. You must have had some family on Miko." Amen looked at the Mikolian, but Azia said nothing. "Tell me about them, Azia- you don't mind if I call you that?" Again the Commander said nothing, but he shook his head, continuing to contain his emotions. "Good. Now, tell me about your family."

He took a breath. Amen assumed it was simply to calm himself; truthfully it was because Amen's peculiar orders annoyed Azia. "My parents died during the civil war… they were against the Hagan ideals. My brother was one of the leaders of the Hagan movement. He died as well when the Royal Guard stormed one of the cell outposts. My nephew… his son, joined the Hagan army a few years ago, but I do not know where he is or if he is still alive. Uziel is his name… I have not seen him in some time… I do not know the fate of his mother either. She perhaps died as well with her husband."

"I'm very sorry. That must have been very hard on you."

"Mikolians and Humans… we have different views on death. We do not mourn as you do. There is nothing for you to feel sorry for. Nothing for me to regret."

Amen gave him a thoughtful nod. "Good. I guess… I guess that's a good attitude then."

"Revenge, however, is something we do share."

"You can't avenge this. Not yet. The Mikolian fleet is in poor shape. We need what is left to guard the border… and Bolius. I don't care how you do it, but I want you to get that across to your people. Is that understood, Commander?"

Azia gave his customary curt nod of understanding. "Yes."

"You will get your revenge… that I promise." Amen paused for just a moment, considering if he wanted to say more. He shook his head- deciding not to, and then said, "Now, go. Get some rest. Tomorrow will be a long, hard day."

Azia merely stood; Amen knew he never hesitated to react to an order. He clicked his heels together, much like he had done several times before, hitting his chest with his fist at the same time, and was then gone.

Amen shook his head lightly, turning away from the closing door. "Strange fellow, that Mikolian is. What am I saying?" he asked himself, "All of them are like that." With that thought in mind, he looked over at his abandoned chair and paints. He walked over to them, looking down at the painted canvas. "Now let's see… where was I?"

/-/-/-/

/-_** The Following Week **_

Report after report. Chart after chart. Nothing seemed to have an end any longer. Julian sighed, his thoughts silently mussing about a day when paperwork was little less than an hour. Maybe two or three on a really bad day. Not any more though.

Eyes scanned another page, no longer paying half the attention deserved. Something about supplies. It all looked in order, though not really enough of what he needed was there.

Dr. Bashir sighed. Sure, he had complained before, but things were on short supply. And the higher ups claimed the front needed more. He scratched his nose, staring all the time blankly at the PADD.

So many dead. So many wounded. Too many. Too many things. And-

The sound of his son's voice met Julian's ears. He looked up, smiling as he saw his son waddling into his room. "Da!" the boy exclaimed again, running up to the bed and slapping his hands down on it in excitement.

"Hey you."

JJ smiled, pulling his one leg onto the bed. Julian laughed as the boy got stuck in that position, not having the strength to get the other over. He put a hand on his butt, helping to pull him up.

"No!" the young Trill shook his head. "Mine big boy. Mine get up by mineself!"

Julian smiled, then laughed as JJ hopped off the bed, trying again to get up. This time Julian didn't help, but clapped when JJ managed to get up on his own.

"Mine did it!"

"All by yourself."

"Yeah!"

The boy climbed into his father's lap, snuggling against his chest. He laid his chubby hands on Julian's thighs. "What you doin'?"

Julian sighed. "Work." JJ seemed to ignore his words, taking his hands and wrapping them around him. Julian smiled rubbing JJ's hands with his thumbs.

"Hey! No tickle me!"

Julian stopped, bringing his chin to the boy's shoulder. "Never get any older, okay?"

"Y-no."

"No?"

"Nooo," he droned, giggling as Julian tickled his stomach. "Hey."

Julian stopped, laying back against the wall, JJ falling back against his chest. "Comfortable?"

"Yes."

/-/-/-/

/-_** Around The Same Time**_

She let out a slow sigh. It was the first time in months that she had been allowed on her own ship. Engineers had been crawling all over _Voyager_ for weeks since they returned from Vulcan and they hadn't allowed her on.

Captain Kathryn Janeway perched herself carefully on the edge of her desk chair. Her sharp eyes surveyed her ready room closely. It was tidy as always, the damage from all her battles disappeared.

It was confusing, she had to admit. For seven long years, she and her crew had worked tediously to return home. She had dreamed of returning back to the Alpha Quadrant.

She had lived in her quarters, in her office, on the bridge, and in the Mess Hall. She didn't know when she had started to call them home. She said that was where they were going- where they were struggling to return- but she called her quarters home and her crew her family. She didn't know when that had happened.

And then, there she was, seven years later and standing on Betazed, in the Alpha Quadrant. She walked into the Alliance Fleet Headquarters and had allowed herself to be pulled back into it. But it wasn't right.

Maybe it was because she couldn't go to Earth. Maybe it was because she couldn't see her mother or what had become of her friends- of her fiancé, a man she hadn't truly thought of in years. Maybe it was because of the new uniforms or the fact that she was no longer Starfleet but Alliance Fleet.

But she knew it wasn't that. It was that she had grown so accustom to being alone. Not in the physical or emotional sense, but in the military sense. She had existed for seven years, having only one ship at her command. She had no one to back her up or come to her aid. But she also had no one to tell her what to do. No orders but her own to follow. After seven years of that, she found it hard to remember there were some higher ranking than her.

She had longed to see Earth again, but she had also feared the day. It was the day that she knew her crew would be spread out- separated. She had feared most for the Maquis. They were wanted by the Federation- Alliance as well. They were criminals. But they had also become her family and her crew and she knew most all of _Voyager_ had forgotten that fact. She had.

But her crew- almost all of her crew- was returning to _Voyager_ in the following weeks. Even the Maquis.

She had spoken to B'Elanna. The half-Klingon might have hated Starfleet and might have despised her first year onboard _Voyager_ but she had certainly fallen into the chief engineer role well over the years. And, even though she was still nursing her twenty month old baby, she couldn't wait to get her hands on her engines. Couldn't wait to help the Alliance Fleet engineers figure out what was what- though Janeway suspected she was more worried about what damage they might have caused. Engineers were strange that way.

Her husband, Tom Paris- Janeway had spoken to him as well- was frantic. He wanted to get back in space- he had mentioned something about loosing his space-legs, which she didn't think one could loose in that short a time- and wanted to get his hands on the helm. But he was still adjusting to being a dad and an Alliance Fleet officer.

She sighed. Tuvok would be joining the crew soon. He still had matters to attend to on Vulcan. She missed her old friend; he had been one of her calming voices on the ship.

Chakotay was the only other. She had been weary about making him her first officer in the beginning, seeing that he was the Maquis's Captain, but he had proved to be one of her best friends and greatest confidants. He knew when she needed to laugh, and when she needed someone to reason with her. When she needed a light in the dark. And he always provided.

The past year had been hard. She had barely heard from Chakotay- or much of the crew. They had had meetings together and would often go out to get something to eat afterwards. Sometimes they bumped into each other while they had been roaming the corridors of _Voyager_. She had actually run into several people that way.

Harry Kim had been one of them. He had been assigned to help the repair crews and the crews trying to analyze some of the new technology. She was quite amazed by the young man. He had been so green and eager when their mission started. She had cried very few times during their seven years: once for every person she lost and once that first week there. She had cried for the young ones like Harry who wouldn't speak to his parents again. Who would see too much too soon.

But he had made it. Had matured and had surprised her so many times. All of them had…

And then there had been Seven. Seven of Nine, a former Borg. Janeway felt that she was way over her head so many times while trying to help the former Borg readjust. She was always worried that Seven could never grasp some of the simplest things. But she had.

Seven was one of the few not returning to _Voyager_. Janeway hadn't received a detailed explanation, but she understood.

Icheb wasn't either. The other former Borg her ship had taken in had one last year to complete at the Academy. She joked that she would see him after that. Maybe she would.

Seven years in the Delta Quadrant had been hard. But one year back had been harder. They had adapted so quickly to the Delta Quadrant because they had to. The adaptation to the Alpha Quadrant was taking a lot longer. Maybe it was because they had each other and they had had a common goal that fueled every day of their being.

Janeway didn't know what this war was about. She didn't understand what had taken place over the past seven years while they were away. She didn't much care.

Some days she wished to be back there. Some days. Not for the death, not for the new alien races trying to kill them, but for the family she had found.

/-/-/-/

/-_** The Same Day**_

Janeway walked out of her ready room hours later. She liked to do work there, whether or not it had anything to do with her ship. She was comfortable in there.

She walked across her bridge. It was fixed and clean and empty of life except for herself and two Ensigns checking something at the engineering station. They snapped to attention, but she waved her hand at them to say it wasn't necessary.

Running her hand along the banister above the Captain and Commander's chairs, she walked onto the turbolift, smiling when she saw that both Ensigns were already once again engrossed in the readouts on the console.

The doors shut in front of her and Kathryn Janeway realized she had no idea where she wanted to go. Not her apartment- she didn't much like returning to her apartment in the Alliance Fleet complex on Betazoid's moon. She wanted to go back to her home, her quarters on _Voyager_. But that wasn't an option. There was nothing for her to do on _Voyager_ nor was there anywhere she wanted to be.

With a sigh, she called out a random deck. The doors opened and Janeway stepped out, turning to the right without realizing where she was. She didn't think, just let her feet steer her in a familiar direction. Suddenly she found herself walking into Engineering.

Her grey eyes glanced around, studying first the warp core before going on to inspect the rest of the room. She glanced up at the second floor catwalks and stations before wondering around the area. The room was brighter then she remembered it and people seemed to buzz around every console.

Gradually, her pace slowed and a grin formed over her face. "Harry?" she said when she recognized the back of the dark haired man. "I'm surprised to see you still here."

The newly promoted Lieutenant looked up and smiled as he saw _Voyager_'s Captain walking up to him. "Yeah well, we're almost done here and I thought I'd finish up."

"Almost done with…?"

"We're, um, done. Most of these guys are going to clear out and start replicating all this. A couple of them are going to stay and help me fix some of this up. Hopefully they'll let us start bringing back the crew soon. I know B'Elanna must want to get her hands on _Voyager_ again."

Janeway laughed, pushing a stray strand of graying red hair from her face. "I know she does. So you're seriously almost done with all this?"

"Yep. She'll be all yours before you know it." Janeway grinned wider at the Korean man before her. He smiled back before excusing himself and returning to his work. Janeway nodded, taking a deep breath before continuing along on her journey through _Voyager_.

It had been something she started years before when insomnia became part of her life and was something she occasionally did when she was allowed onboard her ship. She simply strolled, checking how everything was and exchanging greetings with anyone she knew- that had once been everyone but now very few faces were familiar to her.

/-/-/-/

/-_** August, A Couple Weeks Later**_

His eyes feel closed against his will. He yawned and leaned back against the wall.

The day had been unbearably long. A dozen or so Starfleet ships attacked the station. Deep Space Nine and the _Defiant_ were still licking their wounds from the last attack. If it hadn't been for the three Klingon ships and the six Alliance Fleet ships that had just been stationed in the area, DS9 and the wormhole would be in Federation's hands.

Julian blinked his eyes opened, closing them seconds later when he yawned again.

The border had been cut oddly, in his opinion, when the Federation had split. A very thin line of Alliance space blocked the Bajoran system from the Federation. And, unfortunately for DS9, there just wasn't enough ships to properly guard it. He had heard rumors, however, that Bajor might join the Alliance and therefore more ships would come to their aid.

The turbolift doors opened and the doctor stepped out.

There was nothing worse for Julian than the amount of civilians he treated after battles. He hated that about the station. A lot of civilians were leaving. Many were Bajorans and heading back to their planet. Stations personnel family made up the majority. He had heard Betazed was offering to house families for a short time. Denobula and Vulcan had as well. Even the Vigolian government was considering doing the same.

Julian flinched when sparks flew by his ear. Most of the station was in bad condition. Miles hadn't had any time to repair everything before it was all damagedagain.

It wasn't something they talked about, but Julian knew Miles wanted his family off the station. Julian wouldn't have been surprised if Keiko and the kids left on the next transport to Betazed. Julian was tempted to send JJ and Jadzia on it as well. But he knew Jadzia couldn't- wouldn't- go.

The transport would arrive in two weeks.

Stepped through the half opened door, Julian sank down into the nearest chair, just barely suppressing a yawn. "Sorry I'm late."

"It's okay, Doctor. How-" Julian looked up at Sisko. "How bad?"

Julian looked back at his hands. It was always had- very bad. The burns and the blood, and the crying and begging and dying. It was bad the minute one person died. Very bad when two died. Horrible the minute a child was brought in.

Three children were hurt- not bad, but hurt. All he saw was JJ each time. He nearly cried when the first child was brought in- it hurt to say he was relieved when he saw that it wasn't his son.

"Bad, sir," Julian said quietly, not looking at anyone, not even Jadzia who he knew was gazing worriedly at him, "Really, really bad…"

/-/-/-/

/-_** Two Weeks Later**_

Jadzia watched, her arms crossed over his chest. Her body slouched against the window that gave her a clear line of sight of the starship as if undocked from the station.

The _Lay'lon_ was a Betazoid medical vessel. It had delivered supplies and was departing with the critically injured and civilians wanting to leave.

Keio was on board. She had her daughter- Molly was nearly eleven and furious about leaving her friends- and her son- Yoshi was six and he only cared that he was being forced to leave his dad. Poor Miles, was all Jadzia could think. He had been mopping the last week and she had a feeling that his mood would only grow worse.

And Benjamin. She knew her captain and friend had tried for two weeks to get his son, Jake, to leave. But Jake was a man now, and a reporter. He wanted to stay where the stories were.

She had said good-bye to her son that morning- just an hour ago. He was with Keiko. She had agreed to watch him until they came back. That could be months. JJ would be so big by then. Would he still remember her?

Jadzia shook off the thought. Of course he would.

Julian had said his good-byes the night before. The station had been hit by a single Mikolian ship, but it had done a lot of damage. Julian was still in the Infirmary with patients.

"Hey." Jadzia didn't turn at the quiet voice or gentle touch on her shoulder. She had been expecting Kira to find her.

"Hey."

"How are you holding up?"

She pulled her eyes from the ship; they rested on Kira. The Bajoran leaned against the wall, arms crossed, almost mimicking Jadzia's stance.

Jadzia sighed and looked back at the starry landscape "I miss him already."

"I know you feel."

An amicable silence fell around them. Jadzia closed her eyes, knowing that the _Lay'lon_ would jump to warp soon. Her eyes opened and the ship was gone.

"My two little boys off to Betazed." Jadzia turned her head to look at her friend; Kira was still looking out the window.

With her loss so fresh, Jadzia had forgotten how it affected Kira as well. She loved Jadzia's son as if her were her own. She loved being his godmother- she said it gave her the warm feeling of love without the need to go through pregnancy, diapers, or "those other bothers". Dax had just laughed at her.

And then there was Yoshi, who she also considered as a good as her own son. There was a bond between the two no one had been able to deny. It was no surprise, for she had, after all, carried the child to term and gave birth to him. It was quite the story- though Jadzia had heard many different versions. Suffice to say, Kria still blamed Julian for getting her pregnant.

"I'd rather have them here… but I would never be able to forgive myself if something happened."

Kira nodded, extending a hand to rub her friend's arm. "They'll be back soon." Jadzia looked away, brushing away a strand of hair from her face. "What is it, hon?"

For a moment, Jadzia refused to meet Kira's eye. And then she said softly, "I'm pregnant… and Julian doesn't know…"


	22. Year 8: 2379, continued again

_Author's Note: _Hey again! Enjoy!

/-/-/-/

/-_** Time Unknown**_

On the outside, time passed by swiftly enough, moving faster and slower for whoever it concerned. Engagements were won and lost. But not for the man in his cell…

For Picard, time mattered little. It stood still in his eyes. His life passed only by when food was given and his body bathed or he was taken away to be asked this and that or some such thing. The rest of the world was a slowly fading idea, something he could vaguely recall and yet he could see each face, hear each voice, so well.

Picard sighed. He was just sitting, waiting in his dimly lit cell. In there all that mattered was that he had some food to live off, some sleep to keep his mind clear, and enough strength to walk with his own balance and footing.

Everything else meant nothing… even _Enterprise_ and her crew… even Beverly… had begun to be nothing but a long forgotten place and a long forgotten friend. Day after day, all that mattered was survival. But not that of the body- the body was something they kept alive, kept healthy and clean for whatever their purposes.

No, it had long ago become a battle of the mind. The mind was something he needed intact and alert, he knew, or else they would have control… whoever they may be. He no longer recalled- or had never known- but it seemed it didn't matter to him. Or had it ever mattered?

Picard wasn't one to care about such things. He may have been at one time, but now he could hardly remember which day had been which. There was nothing to distinguish any day from another- except for the times he spoke with her.

Their talks grew fewer with each passing day- or perhaps mere hours, he was no longer sure. But, when she spoke in his mind, he would close his eyes and listen. He would envision the face he had seen so long ago and image she was in front of him talking- sometimes they were relaxing, having a nice meal and drinks, laughing over something. Other times, he imaged that they were on the _Enterprise_. Sometimes he simply saw her face.

There were times when they spoke for hours- or at least it seemed that long- and others when they hardly had anything to say at all. They were both beginning to repeat themselves- or maybe that had happened a long time ago- but they listened and spoke any way. She sang to him at times. When he was tired but couldn't sleep, he would often hear the quietest whisper in his mind, singing to an exotic rhythm with the most beautiful words.

Picard sighed as he leaned back against the wall. He had learned over what he was almost sure had been months to speak back to her, to send thoughts to her. But it was tiring and he only spoke at the beginnings of their conversations. He was sure it tired her as well, but she always continued to talk until he fell asleep listening or she was interrupted.

He looked up into the darkness of his cell. There was nothing to see; sometimes he wasn't sure if his eyes were in fact open. He sometimes wondered why he bothered looking around.

He had told her many times about his crew on _Enterprise_. That day was no different. He had talked about each of them, remembering every detail he could force to mind. Everything. He had even spoken briefly about what might have come of them. He told her when they first started talking what had happened to him, and he wondered if they had survived whatever engagement had destroyed the ship he had been on. He wondered if they were alive. If the _Enterprise_ was still as majestic and whole as she was when he left her.

He knew she didn't know. He knew she wouldn't say anything. He knew that, as always, she would turn the conversation to more pleasant things- pleasant memories. But he also knew, somehow, that they were still out there… he knew it…

/-/-/-/

/-_** At The Same Time **_

Riker bent down and picked up a few pieces of fallen panels. They were charred and warped, and still warm from battle. He stood and tossed them into the bin near the other wall.

_Enterprise _was still a mess, but her key systems were back up. The last report he had gotten a hold of said the crew could come back within the week. The real problem was how many dead personnel there was, but the forty survivors of the _Stonewall_ were being transferred. There weren't as many medical personnel as needed, however, but they were scrapping some up.

Riker let out a sigh. Thinking about that just brought him back to the night Deanna had told Beverly about her staff. Nurse Alyssa Ogawa had died along with several others.

It also made him realize how much he missed his ship. Missed being on a ship. He had never wanted to be an Admiral. Never. But he had his family to think about. If it hadn't been for the war, he could have had both. He only had himself to blame for that; he had been the one to start the chain of events.

"Ah, there you are, Will."

Will turned away from the wall to see Admiral Jackson approaching him. "Admiral."

"When are you going to start calling me Tom?" Riker never answered, but Jackson continued on anyway. "I would image you're curious as to why I had you meet me here?"

"A little, yes."

"Let's take a walk, shall we?" Riker obediently fell into step with the Admiral, leaving his hands at his sides while Jackson held his behind his back. "You know the plan to take back Bolius as well as anyone."

"Yes, sir," he said slowly.

"Then you would agree when I say Alpha Fleet has the most crucial part."

"Definitely. The distraction is always most important. Not to mention it's their job to, hopefully, destroy the fleet. Or at least get them to retreat. I'd say that's rather important."

"_Enterprise_ will be ready to lead Alpha Fleet," Jackson said absently as he continued down the corridor, stepping over some fallen debris, "but she still doesn't have a Captain."

"I still hold to what I said last year."

"Oh?"

Riker looked over at Jackson, he was looking at him oddly. "Commander Data is the best choice. I'm not sure if Lieutenant Commander Byron is read to be first officer, however."

"That's not what I'm talking about, Will."

"You're still not going to promote him?"

"No." Jackson stopped. Riker, not noticing the sudden action, took a few more steps before turning and facing Jackson. "I want you."

"Me?"

"Yes. I want you on _Enterprise_ leading Alpha Fleet."

"Me?"

"You've said that already."

Riker sighed, looking away. He stared at the wall for a moment. They were just starting to wash the corridors but hadn't gotten there yet. Will could see a bloodied hand print beneath the computer interface.

Riker pulled his eyes away and looked back at Jackson. All he gave was a curt nod as an answer.

"Good. Pack you're bags. You'll be back here in three days."

"Yes, sir."

Jackson turned on his heels and marched away. Riker looked dully behind him, eyes not taking in the sight of Jackson's strut or the destruction in the man's path. He just stared, lost in his thoughts.

/-/-/-/

/-_** November, Two Months Later**_

"Dax, how pregnant are you?"

Jadzia looked over her shoulder at Kira. The Bajoran was leaning over her console, pretending to be observing her work.

"Seven weeks."

"Seven? Jadzia, how long are you going to keep this from Julian?"

Dax sighed, eyes falling closed. "I don't know."

"Tell him." Kira paused, as if something had finally come to her. Then, looking around herself, she whispered, "How does Julian not know? He is the doctor."

"We do have more than one doctor."

Kira looked at Jadzia. "We do?" Jadzia's brow's rose, but Kira just shrugged.

"I'll tell him when I'm ready."

"What if something happens?"

"What?"

"What if you're hurt?"

Jadzia shook her head in a warning gesture. "Kir-"

"If you're hurt, he'll find out and he'll never forgive himself. You have to tell him- it's not like he won't see soon, anyway. It'll only hurt him."

"Kira… Kira, just- let me tell him in my own time."

The Bajoran sighed, opening her mouth to say something, but was interrupted when the Captain peeked out of his office and called her name. Kira looked up at him, giving him a nod and telling him that she would be right with him.

Sisko didn't say anything farther but returned to his office. Kira sighed, looking back at Dax. "Tell him soon."

"I will." At Kira's warning look, she repeated, "I will." Kira nodded and stepped away, walking up the stairs to the Captain's office. She really hated the Cardassian design.

"Yes, Captain?"

"I was just contacted by Admiral Jackson- from Betazed." She nodded, as if she knew what that meant, and waited for him to continue. "There's a small outpost near the edge of Federation borders- not too far from us."

Sisko paused at this point, sinking down into his chair behind his desk. He gestured to the seat across from him, but Kira declined.

With a breath, the Captain continued, "They believe it might have several high ranking POWs." Kira just continued to watch it. "The security around there, however, is extremely lax- I'm not entirely convinced that this is true." Sisko sighed. "But my opinion doesn't mean much.

"While they are attempting to retake Bolius, the Admiral wants to send a small armada to rescue whomever may be in there. I can't go, so I want you to take the _Defiant_ and command this thing."

"Me, sir?"

"Yes, Major. I think you can handle it."

She didn't say or do anything for just a moment, but held his eyes. After a pause, she finally nodded. "Yes, sir. Is that all?"

"The other five ships will be here within the week. Commander Thomson, Captain Jayton's first officer, will be giving the briefing."

"Why not Captain Jayton himself? Why isn't he commanding this thing?"

Sisko shook his head. "He was injured when the Mikolians attacked Ketrel. He'll be back on his ship before long, however he will not be going on this mission." Kira nodded, standing at a casual attention as she waited for him to continue. "That's all."

"Yes, sir." She turned to leave, but then asked, "So… we attack in a week?"

/-/-/-/

/-_** Eight Days Later **_

Riker pushed his chair away from the desk. A small red light flashed on the small computer screen. He didn't bother to read the message- it was telling him that his log was recorded and stored. Then it asked if he wanted to review it. He tapped the 'yes'- he honestly couldn't remember what it said.

"_Personal log. Stardate: 37911.24._

"_Gawd have I missed this ship. These people. I miss Deanna and the kids and Betazed, but… but this is _Enterprise_. My beautiful ship. _

"_She's looked a lot better… the crew's back, that always helps. Makes her look livelier…_

"_Everyone seems to have adjusted pretty well. I know that those from the _Stonewall _are having some trouble. But they'll adjust. Same with the medical staff…"_

It was a hectic, chaotic mess, that's what Beverly thought. Her new staff was stepping on the old staff's toes. Some tasks had been done twice; some hadn't been done at all.

Her hands were trembling. She wanted to collapse into her chair. Wanted to walk- to run out of there. She wanted to scream- and she didn't know why…

"I still feel bad- I feel like I stole this command from Data… brought it up with him. He claims he's just happy I'm back. But I tried to make it up to Data- there's no new Captain. Just him and me. I'll admit that it's weird hearing people call me Admiral while standing on the bridge."

Stars were stretching out. White blurs of light. He watched, seemingly entranced. He had seen it many hundreds of time. Thousands.

The first time he had seen it, he had thought nothing of it. He watched for a short time, realizing it was one of the first times he had allowed himself to feel anything. He was scared. Terrified. Nervous and exhilarated.

Data looked over at Geordie. He had never been afraid for a friend before…

"It's not long before we get there. I can feel the tension building…

"_We strike in… four hours. Thirty minutes later, six ships will hit their target, hopefully with minimum resistance."_

He feared for his first officer. He knew she was a capable Captain and would fight well. Fight furiously and to the end. But he still had the irrational fear that he needed to be there.

Sisko smiled, trying to be supportive. Dax smiled back with her cheeky, smart-assed smirk. Julian was more solemn- that was his way. He knew people would die; Dax tried to pretend she didn't know the same.

Miles grunted his good-bye. The engineer stepped away and into the airlock behind his friends.

Sisko's gaze turned back to his first officer. She was nervous, scared, but fighting to hide it…

"_People are going to die… a lot of people but we've got a good bunch here. The _Voyager_'s upgrades will help. Hopefully they won't know what hit them."_

She was familiar with trepidation. Fear was a constant, unwelcomed companion that had stayed by her side for years.

It was one of the differences between being in the fleet and being alone in the Delta Quadrant. In the fleet, most battles were planned. In the Delta Quadrant, she never had time to relax, waiting for a fight at every turn.

Janeway thought it odd, standing on her bridge preparing to strike. Maybe it was some chivalrous code in her or maybe it was years without an enemy to conquer and a fleet to back her, but she didn't like knowing for hours, days, weeks ahead of time that people were going to die and she was going to led them into battle…

"_Let's hope someone out there's watching out for us…"_

/-/-/-/

Bright bursts of red exploded, lighting up the blackness of space. Shields glimmered as phasers and torpedoes hit them, fizzing at the loss of energy. Black ships rocked feverishly against the blow of surprise.

Riker frowned at the screen as the chaotic mess of battle raged on.

"Byron, concentrate your fire on the lead ship."

"Aye, sir."

Three black Mikolian ships disengaged from the rigid net they had created to protect the planet. One was obviously the lead ship; the other two were its wingmen. All three were heading straight for the _Enterprise_, weapons charged and firing.

The viewscreen showed the energy dispersing as phasers were halted by the shields. He smiled. The Mikolian weapons before had carved straight through their old shields.

Byron launched four new transphasic torpedoes at the lead ship. The ship rocked violently, a fire bursting where the torpedoes had struck. "Shields down to eighty percent. Those hits are really hurting us."

"I'll keep that in mind, Commander. Continue fire. Riker to the _Warbird_, we'd appreciate a hand here."

"_We're coming, Admiral."_

Riker smirked again. It felt good standing back on his bridge, calling out orders. Familiar voices surrounded him. He could still hear the smirk in Captain Ivinch's voice even after a year of not seeing her.

"Commander Byron, let's give our new phasers a test," he said as he retreated to his chair. Sinking into it, he could hear Byron's amused agreement.

A red line cut across the viewscreen, intending to hit the Mikolian ship head on, but the ship twisted, the phasers hitting the weak spot on its belly.

"Commander, keep-" Riker cut himself off when a burst of light forced him to cover his eyes. He looked back up after a moment to find the lead ship had been destroyed.

/-/-/-/

Her bridge erupted in a short applause at the sight of the formerly invincible ship crumble into itself. Ivinch allowed herself a smile. The buggers had hurt her ship too.

"Target the ship on the left, Lieutenant, I think _Enterprise_ has the other."

"Yes, ma'am." She tried not to roll her eyes at the younger officer.

Ivinch settled herself back into her chair, pressing the comm. with a smirk. "Nicely done, Will. Looks like these weapons are working after all." She heard him chuckle over the line, but deactivated it when she knew that he wasn't going to say anything to her.

She stood just as the Lieutenant at tactical fired a volley of torpedoes. She walked up to the viewscreen, reaching the Helm officer by the time the torpedoes had connected with the haul of the Mikolian ship. Three erupted on the front of the ship, the void of space all that kept the fire from bursting to life. One missed and the fifth collided with the back end of the ship.

"Back us off!" She shouted, forgetting that it was unnecessary.

Just as she felt her ship beginning to move farther away from the Mikolian ship, the other ship's warp core went critical and exploded. The ship collapsed in on itself, sending a shock wave after the _Warbird_.

Ivinch's hands flew over her head as she was thrown back against the other end of the bridge. The last thing she remembered was hitting her head and seeing a flashing red light before everything went dark.

/-/-/-/

Riker shifted his weight when he felt the ground beneath him move. Every hit was getting worse- the inertial dampeners were probably damaged- and Riker miscalculated and tripped, falling to the ground.

Quickly, he pushed himself up and stared up at the black figure on the screen.

The Mikolian ships were destroyed too quickly in the beginning but, with each that was destroyed, the harder the next became.

"They have modulated their shields once again," Data announced somewhere behind him. The android's voice was trembling slightly. Riker turned to look at him when he regained his balance. There were emotions in his eyes that made a shiver run down his spine, draining the life from him for a millisecond.

"Keep firing!" he forced himself to say, tearing his eyes away from Data. "Another round of torpedoes. Aim for their warp core."

He didn't look at Byron to see if the man had heard him. Instead, he turned himself back towards the Helm officer, grabbing his chair when the ship was hit again.

"Shields!"

"Fifty-five percent."

"Data, is there something wrong with inertial dampeners?"

"A slight imbalance, yes sir."

"Okay. Just making sure," he said, more to himself than anyone else. "Where are my torpedoes!?" he yelled just before Byron punched in the sequence.

"They're away, sir."

"Good," his words were lost at the sound of the impact of another torpedo in their haul. He sighed when he turned back to yell an order to Byron, noticing how damaged the bridge was. "This is going well…"

/-/-/-/

"Um… uh, over there. Put her over there. Myles! Triage these people! Alan! Alan! Get over here! We need more- um, more… more-" Beverly took a breath, closing her eyes to clear her mind. She couldn't remember the word.

"Methonfolin?"

"Yes. Yes. Get more Methonfolin. Quickly."

Alan nodded his head, giving her a worried glance before running away from her, dodging the obstacles of bodies and scattered equipment.

Beverly ran a hand through her hair, blow out air. Her eyes scanned over the room. The noise was overwhelming. People were yelling, crying, orders falling on deaf ears. The chaos was unbearable.

She forced in a breath. She was shaking again. Her eyes fell on a biobed in the corner. An Ensign lay on it, swallowing his pain as a nurse dressed his wounds. The last person she had treated on the bed had died…

Her eyes fell on a section of the wall on the other side of the Infirmary. It was subtly a different shade of color than the others. It wasn't noticeable in that moment, but she had seen it earlier.

"Dr. Crusher? Dr. Crusher!"

She turned to see Dr. McMillian staring at her. But she wasn't seeing her. She was seeing something completely different. She was watching the chaos of battle and death, but not from that day.

"Dr. Crusher!" The world came screeching back into her ears and she noticed for the first time that Dr. McMillian was standing in front of her. "We need you over here!"

Beverly felt her head shaking and her legs moving her in the opposite direction. She felt her breathing increase and she couldn't think. She couldn't stop trembling. She could barely hear Dr. McMillian yelling her name behind her.

/-/-/-/

"Riker to the _Warbird_. Is everything alright?"

He held his breath, waiting for the response even as he watched the battle take place before him. His mind was divided between his emotions and his mission.

"We're still here, Will."

He let out a relieved sigh, smiling as he told the winded voice, "Good."

"Worried about little ol' me?"

Riker smiled at Ivinch's teasing voice. "Get back to work," he scolded. Ivinch laughed and then cut the link.

"Keep firing at their middle, Byron."

"Yes, sir," he responded easily, adjusting his aim.

Riker sank back into his chair, surveying the scene before him. He called out orders to other ships, organizing the battle once again.

"Dr. McMillian to Captain Riker."

He sighed, giving another order to Byron before slapping the badge on his chest. "Go ahead, doctor."

"Sir, Dr. Crusher just walked out. I don't know where she's going."

"Well, doctor," he said evenly, not paying much attention to what had been said, "I'm a little busy up here. Deal with it until she returns. Riker out."

His gaze turned back to Data, who was now giving the Helm orders, and he stood. "Keep the phasers trained on them, Mr. Byron."

/-/-/-/

Baylie watched the action play out on the viewscreen. It wasn't actually what was in front of them, instead it was what the _Enterprise_ was seeing. His ship- the _Lonestar_- along with a forth of the Beta Fleet were hiding from Mikolian sensors on the other side of Bolius.

His eyes flickered to the screen on his armrest showing an image of Bolius before going back to the action.

Every ship had brought with them a compliment of five hundred trained soldiers to retake the planet's surface. They were being transported down fifty at a time onto the planet while the other ships remained there, watching out for any Mikolian ship.

He looked back at the screen. It was still of the planet.

He took a breath, wincing when the Alliance ship exploded on the screen. His fingers tapped restlessly on the armrest, his foot resisting the urge to tap along. He hated watching from the sidelines, but his mission wasn't to enter into the fighting, it was to command the troops from above.

He glanced back down at the viewscreen. Finally…

Blue dots were cluttered in several areas- the most strategic drop areas. Those were his men. Red dots mixed in with the blue- those were the Mikolians.

He took a breath. "Time to get this show on the road…"

/-/-/-/

President Amen of the planet Earth stood, hands clamped behind his back, stance rigid, eyes staring out the activate forceshield. He swirled around at the sound of the door opening to find himself face to face with the solemn face of Admiral Hill and ever-blank expression of Commander Azia.

"You have news?"

"The Alliance has attacked our forces surrounding Bolius."

"And?" Amen hissed, remaining where he was. He watched Hill shift his weight and look over at Azia. Amen followed his gaze. The Mikolian looked up at him, straightening his back as he prepared to speak.

"They… seem to have discovered adequate protection against our weapons." Azia paused, impassive mask slipping for only a second. "They are winning."

Amen paused, staring blankly at the Mikolian. A muscle twitched in his cheek and soon after he shouted, "What do you mean, 'they are winning'? They're not supposed to be able to do that! That's what you said! Azia! Hill! You promised that they wouldn't be able to destroy that fleet!"

Admiral Hill sighed, a weary look haunting his features. He looked over at the Mikolian Commander, annoyed at his still calmness in the face of such a spiteful man.

Slowly Hill brought his eyes level with Amen. "They have some new advancements."

Commander Azia nodded slowly. "Yes. They appear to have acquired new weapons that penetrate our shields rather easily. Modulating the shields only protects us for a short time."

"They're haul plating has been enhanced as well."

"Yes," Azia nodded in quick agreement. "Our weapons still do considerable damage, but not as much as before."

Amen glowered and turned away from them. His fists were clenched white with anger. Hill swallowed. He had heard from others that the President had a bad temper and was prone to sudden mood shifts. He had vaguely seen this, but had never been the cause or target of one though.

"We will simply have to upgrade both fleets once more."

"But, sir-"

"No," Amen hissed through clenched teeth. Hill leaned away, startled. "but's, Admiral. I want more upgrades. I want my fleet able to destroy the Alliance."

"Yes, sir." Hill nodded.

Azia looked away for a moment before turning his gaze back on Amen. "I will order one of my ships to detained several Alliance Fleet officers. I am sure that we can… convince one of them to help us."

Amen nodded, a slow smile hiding the anger in his eyes. "Good. Dismissed."

Hill closed his eyes for just a moment before he felt Amen's gaze fixed upon him once again. He stood up straighter, eyes staring straight at the wall, bid his farewell and marched out of the office.

/-/-/-/

She forced in a shaky breath. The air was thick with smoke- fires were erupting everywhere, put out by the ship's computer. But the smoke was still thick, making the red emergency lights cast an eerie glow in the darken halls.

Beverly wasn't sure why she was just leaning against the wall. Sickbay was only a dozen or so meters away- she hadn't gotten far before her legs nearly gave way. She was still shaking though. She didn't know why.

She could breath again, even though the smoke was burning her lungs as badly as it was burning her eyes.

That was the other thing. She could hardly see. Her eyes were focused ahead of her. She knew the wall wasn't far, but she couldn't see it. Between the smoke and the tears welling in her eyes, she couldn't see anything.

Her mind kept replaying moments in her head. She could see things that had just happened when the battle started. She could see the people coming in wounded…

But most of those things weren't what had really just happened. They were from months ago. They were moments replaying themselves that had happened when they lost Bolius to the Mikolians. She knew it, but she pretended it had just happened, because she was afraid. Afraid of the memories and afraid of what it meant.

Footsteps caught her attention and she looked up to find two figures groping their way through the smoke.

"Geordie?"

"Dr. Crusher?"

"What's wrong?" Suddenly the shakiness was gone and the memories were temporarily forgotten.

"I burned myself. And I can't see anything. Something's messing with my implants."

Geordie's face was coming into view. An Ensign was helping to lead him. She looked like she had hit her head.

Beverly took deep breath and pushed off the wall, moving to help Geordie to her Sickbay. Everything but him and the Ensign was forgotten for the moment.

/-/-/-/

Everything seemed to be in slow motion to Riker. These moments were rare to him, but he had experienced them before.

The noise seemed to fade away. He felt numb and couldn't move, could barely think. His breathing was loud in his ears, his heart pounding in tune to the raspy breaths.

Torpedo banks nearly depleted. Phasers running low. Shields to seventeen percent. Two more hits and they would be exposed. A couple after that…

Riker took another breath, the sound echoing loudly in his ears. He felt himself standing, but didn't know when it had happened.

A dark figure loomed before them. Two red bolts of light shot from it, like two glowing eyes staring blankly from the pitch black.

Only Riker's heart was pounding in his ears; he was holding his breath.

Everything came rushing back- the noise and the feeling in his limbs. Suddenly Riker felt the ground under him lurch and he was thrown against the floor, his hands hitting the ground just moments before the rest of his body. He groaned and turned onto his back. He smirked up at Data- who was either already on his feet or had never left them- and took his offered hands.

"Only one photon torpedo grazed our shields."

Riker let out a breath that sounded more like a laugh. "Nice flying, Ensign."

"Thank-you, sir."

"Sir!" Riker looked sharply at Byron. "The Mikolian vessel is retreating."

Immediately, all attention had turned to the viewscreen where, in fact, the dark ship was turning away and jumping to warp speed. Riker allowed his eyes to glance over the rest of the screen. All the fighting had stopped; there was nothing more than a few random shots discharged. Several dozen Mikolian ships were turning away and jumping to high warp.

Slowly, he let out a sigh. "Well… that was fun." Then he swallowed, straightening himself and pulling his uniform down around his hips before turning and walking back to his chair. "This is Riker to Alliance Fleet Headquarters…"

/-/-/-/

Admiral Jackson forced down the cheer that threatened to rise from his throat and destroy his professional demeanor. He grinned instead, nodding enthusiastically at the screen as he watched the remaining Mikolian ships retreat.

"Baylie to Alliance Fleet Headquarters. We've recaptured the designated targets. Thousands of ground troops are surrendering. It'll be over before long."

Jackson nodded again, "Good job, good job."

He sighed as he turned away from the celebrating and viewscreen of the planet Bolius now surrounded by Alliance ships. He smiled at no one in particular, mostly just to hide what was going on his head.

He was excited and happy that the plan had worked. But all he could think about was the transmission relayed from the _Defiant_. Commander Thomson had led a ground assault team into the supposed Prisoner of War camp. He couldn't get the words out of his head- he could just hear the shocked voice repeat over and over again:

"There's nothing here. I don't like it. No Starfleet. No Mikolians. Nothing. No sensors… no traps so far… I don't like it, Captain. Not one bit…

"_There's some kind of door here… we're only on the outer perimeter of the facility… going in… holly sh- _

"_There's about… fifty people in here… Sir! I recognize some of these people! What the hell-_

"_I don't think most of these guys are Alliance Fleet… a lot of them look like civilians. _

"_Wait a minute… that Trill up there. She looks like an Ambassador…"_

/-/-

Hmm... interesting... Wonder what's going on. Well, actually, I know what's going on so I'm more wondering what you think is going on. Drop a review, it makes me feel better.


	23. Year 9: 2380

**Year Nine: 2380**

/- _**Two Days Before Christmas, 2380**_

It was a still night. The last of the suns was suspended just over the horizon, leaving a haunting trail of redhues in its wake. Two of the three moons had risen- the third wouldn't appear for several hours. Few stars were peaking through the light haze, glittering down from the darkening sky with an omnipotent feel that terrified him that night.

Admiral William Riker sighed out a breath of warm air, the vapors crystallizing moments after passing his lips. He rubbed his hands together. They, along with his cheeks, were the only parts of his body that were cold. He wore, not entirely by choice, he dress uniform. It was far more comfortable than any Starfleet one he had worn in the past, but it was still high-collared and awkwardly cut. He pulled absently at the collar, scratching his neck as he did so. The only thing he couldn't complain about what that the uniform kept his body warm and protected from the night air.

He took a deep, steadying breath as he looked up at the molded iron before him. Alien letters were bent skillfully into curving words into the metal gate. Though he could not read the Betazoid writing, he knew what it said.

His eyes fell on the sight just beyond the gate. It was haunted; silent. An eerie mist hovered over the ground glimmering in the pale moonlight. His eyes searched the vast grounds carefully. There was nothingness stretching far into the distance. And yet, it wasn't nothingness. The mist, just past the ankle, hid what the purpose of the grounds were.

Will looked away. He would honestly admit that he had visited this place only once years before. He had resisted, he had declined to go, had nearly ordered the _Enterprise_ out of the area. But he couldn't, he didn't, and somehow he ended up in the same place he was standing in that very moment.

He took the final three steps towards the gate as quickly as he dared. It opened at his urging, and Will stepped inside, allowing the gate to swing itself closed. It screeched before stopping, breaking the unearthly stillness for a fraction of a second. Then Will paused again, as if his legs could only move in short increments and were protesting once again.

He looked about himself. There were dirt paths leading in two separate directions that circled and twisted and wound themselves throughout the entire compound. He had walked the first path before; the second was the one he was intending on taking. But, just as his legs finished their protest, he began to head down the nearest path, eyes focused on the white haze swirling around his feet.

It had been… nearly six years since he last traveled down that road. Will was amazed that he still recalled so vividly where to go. He continued down the way until suddenly he veered to the left, his feet leading him somewhere his eyes couldn't identify. Then, just as suddenly, he stopped and looked down.

There it was. A small marker with a number and a name imprinted on it. Will sighed. That was all that was left.

Deanna had tried to explain the writing along the entrance gate. But she said, like the word Imzadi, it was hard for the Human mind to completely understand. It was part of an ancient poem about the Betazoid afterlife and the beauty of the Betazoid soul. He stared at it a while longer, just barely able to read the curving letters, knowing that it said something like _"Ya'lyn zim'b fri'uio daso lydri"_.

The compound had been used for centuries as a memorial ground for those who died in war, though he couldn't imagine that many were buried there who weren't members of Starfleet or Alliance Fleet. In fact, nearly none of the dead came from Betazed's past. Recently, however, the numbers had grown.

Will forced in a shaky breath. Just over six years before, he had stood not far from his current position and watched as his Captain, a friend, was declared dead. There before him were the last words Jean-Luc Picard wished anyone to ever hear. Will never heard them. That day, he had simply walked away…

/-/-/-/

"_Personal log. Stardate, 38012.18._

"_Don't think I've added much to this thing this year… hell of a year it's been. Tiring… long, very long. The start alone should have told me that… I know it shocked us all- everyone. Lwaxana, for one, but Pell and others especially. I know it baffled me…._

"_Hell of a day that was. Right after we retook Bolius. Head Quarters had sent a small team to a supposed prison camp. They met no resistance, but found… well, what they found was the beginning of a domino effect…"_

/-/-/-/

/- _**January, 2380 (eleven months before)**_

Commander Thomson looked around himself, scratching his bearded chin as he waited for the signal to connect. He glanced over at Garret. The man gave him a stiff nod and Thomson cleared his throat. "Admiral?"

"_Yes, Commander, I'm listening."_

"We've checked everyone," he said quickly, rubbing his nose, "None of them are changelings. We're running their DNA through the computers now to see if they are who they say they are."

"_Very good. Can you give us a rough estimate?"_

Thomson glanced over at Garret, the man no longer looking at him, before he turned his attention to the room around him. They had counted minutes after they had arrived and secured the area. "Forty-three, sir."

"_Forty-three? Any… intriguing names they claim to be called?"_

He sighed, nodding to himself, "We're running all their names through our computers. But… there are a few." His eyes searched the area- an area that, before, had been void of anything except people, was now decorated with Alliance equipment. His eyes only stopped their search once they found one particular person. "Namely the Trill Ambassador Pell Lynn. She claims to have been here for two years."

"_Ambassador Lynn? No, that's not possible." _Thomson's brows folded together at hearing the voice. A woman's but not one he recognized. She didn't sound like Alliance Fleet.

"_Commander, that was Ambassador Troi of Betazed. She assures me that she just saw Ambassador Lynn."_

"I'm not saying she didn't," the Commander said with a shake of his head, "I'm just telling you what I see and what this- this person has told me." His eyes continued trailing around the room, looking for others he had singled out earlier. "Sir, there's also someone claiming to be… well, Earth's Ambassador Ken Smith. Again, looks like him, and he says he's been here for two years as well. But I happen to know Ken Smith is on Earth."

"_The Ambassador agrees with you, but it would be worth investigating. Discretely of course… anything else to report?"_

"Well, besides the man- Klingon- claiming to be General Martok,there are a few other things. We found no markings- no good indicators of who built this place. The outside could have been designed to appear Federation in origin. I think it would be wise to consider the possibility that… well that these are the real… copies and whoever Ambassador Troi has been working with, or whoever has been working with President Amen are actually… I don't know, clones maybe… Changelings, possibly. Those are the only two explanations I can give."

"_But if- and that's a big if- the changelings are behind this, why would they keep these prisoners in an unmanned prison in Federation space?"_

Thomson drew in a deep breath, his silence stretching out longer than he would have intended. "I… I honestly couldn't give you an answer. Some people we've interviewed mentioned guards that were here for a while and then left. Possibly they're telling the truth and referring to the Dominion leaving the Alpha quadrant."

"_Could also explain why they left so easily."_

Thomson nodded. "That's all for now, sir. I'll report back soon with our findings."

"_Very well."_

/-/-/-/

/- _**At the Same Time**_

Lwaxana sighed as she looked around the room. She was early for the Alliance Council meeting with the Alliance commanders and had therefore walked in just as Admiral Jackson was beginning his communiqué with some Commander. She had listened briefly while he apologized and offered her a seat in the room. She had casually refused the seat but accepted the invitation to remain in the room.

Letting her eyes wander, she was easily bored by the room. Brightness and color had never been Starfleet's forte, and nor did it seem was it the Alliance Fleet's.

Bored with that already, she turned to look at Admiral Jackson as he stood, hovering over a communications device. "Well? Why aren't they connected?"

"It'll take just a moment, sir. There's intermediate interference in that region in space."

Jackson nodded and Lwaxana sighed. Finally a small voice echoed over the comm., _"Admiral?"_

"Yes, Commander, I'm listening."

"_We've checked everyone,"_ he said, his voice coming in stronger. Lwaxana listened, for she was intrigue by what he was talking about- at least more intrigued by him than the décor- _"None of them are changelings. We're running their DNA through the computers now to see if they are who they say they are."_

Lwaxana's brow had risen at the mention of changelings and she listened in closer. "Very good. Can you give us a rough estimate?"

"_Forty-three, sir."_

"Forty-three?" Lwaxana smirked, not sure why Jackson was surprised they knew the exact number. "Any… intriguing names they claim to be called?"

She heard the man sigh on the other end; she envisioned him nodding. _"We're running all their names through our computers. But… there are a few. Namely the Trill Ambassador Pell Lynn. She claims to have been here for two years."_

"Ambassador Lynn?" Lwaxana found herself saying out loud. She shook her head, "No, that's not possible."Admiral Jackson looked at her, his brow wrinkling in confusion. "I just saw her a few hours ago."

Giving a short nod, Jackson turned back to the comm. "Commander, that was Ambassador Troi of Betazed. She assures me that she just saw Ambassador Lynn."

"_I'm not saying she didn't. I'm just telling you what I see and what this- this person has told me. Sir, there's also someone claiming to be… well, Earth's Ambassador Ken Smith. Again, looks like him, and he says he's been here for two years as well. But I happen to know Ken Smith is on Earth."_

Lwaxana cocked an eyebrow at that statement. She nodded her agreement to the Admiral, not entirely trusting herself to speak any more. "The Ambassador agrees with you," he said calmly,"but it would be worth investigating. Discretely of course… anything else to report?"

Lwaxana stopped listening at this point. She stared forward at the blank screen, eyes glazing over as she retreated in her mind.

Two years… she couldn't believe it. Was it possible that for that long she had been conversing and working with someone else? A clone? A changeling?

Memories came flooding back to her. Odd occurrences, things Lwaxana brushed off immediately, came back to her. Had that been because Pell had in fact not been Pell? Had she acted so strange because it wasn't really her?

There had been a short period of time, nearly two years ago, when Lwaxana remembered sensing something odd from Pell. Did that have something to do with it?

The Commander had mentioned something about Ambassador Smith. Lwaxana remembered the two occasions she had caught Pell speaking with that man. Was it because she was truly working for a third side, not the annoying Mr. Smith Lwaxana was accustomed too? Was that the explanation for his odd behavior as well the past few times she had been forced to meet with him?

It would finally explain things, but…

It couldn't be, could it? Could the woman currently just three kilometers away working in the Alliance Consulate not be the woman Lwaxana had thought she was? Could Lwaxana's good friend and former pupil truly be a copy? Could her real friend have been locked in some prison for so long?

"Very well." Jackson's final words yanked Lwaxana from her thoughts. "What do you make of this?"

Lwaxana was only able to shrug her shoulders and shake her head. "I don't know what to think, Admiral. Ambassador Lynn is my friend; I have a hard time accepting that the person I've been talking to isn't her."

"But… do you think it's possible?"

Lwaxana opened her mouth but hesitated. Catching his eye, she reminded herself of all her thoughts just then. Slowly she nodded, "It's possible."

/-/-/-/

/- _**Around The Same Time**_

"Julian? What are you still doing up?"

Julian yawned as he leaned back in his chair, stretching as he looked over his shoulder to see Jadzia waddling out of the bedroom. Rubbing his eyes, he turned his attention back to the computer screen. "Finishing my report."

"I thought you already had," she said quizzically as she rested her hands on his shoulders, massaging them gently.

"I did, but that was before more test results came in."

"And?" She shook her head, looking down at the lines of small words on the screen.

"And I had to go over those and then fix this." He rubbed his eyes again, this time managing to stifle his yawn.

"No, I meant…" Jadzia shook her head, breaking off her train of thought. "Come to bed, Julian."

"In a moment. I'm almost done." He glanced up at her, almost surprised to find her standing directly behind him, as if he hadn't felt her presence there before. He rubbed his eyes again and looked back to the screen, starting to enter more data.

"You can finish in the morning," Jadzia scolded him, "You need sleep."

"I've done just fine without sleep these past years. What do I need it for now?" One hand rubbed his eyes as the other punched in a sequence of keys.

"For one thing, you may be able to see the screen without having to rub your eyes and squinting," she said as she turned his chair around, not hearing his mumbled protests. "Come on. The bed's cold and I'm tired," she remarked sarcastically as she grabbed his arm. She pulled but knew that, in her pregnant state, she wouldn't move him if he didn't want to be moved. He offered no resistance and stood at her request. "Come to bed, Julian."

He took a wobbled step with her before lacing his fingers through hers and letting her lead him back to their room.

/-/-/-/

/-_** A Few Days Later**_

"Sorry I'm-" Ambassador Pell Lynn halted both her words and her movement as she looked into the Council Room. As if on cue, all six occupants of the room looked up; two of which Pell did not recognize. Ambassador T'Pel stood stoically watching her; Pell just ignored the Vulcan and turned her gaze to Lwaxana, ignoring Ambassador Moricz and Ganit as well. The Betazoid stared back at her evenly. "-late. What's going on here?"

Pell's eyes never left Lwaxana, but she knew the Trill was referring to the two Alliance security officers standing beside her. Lwaxana took a deep breath, taking a step forward, "Pell, you're going to have to go with them."

"Why?"

Pell's response was quick and Lwaxana looked over at the officers, not knowing what to say. "It's just a standard procedure, ma'am," the Lieutenant said, "Don't worry about it. We just need to check something out. It'll be over in just an hour or so."

Pell's face was coated with suspicion as she returned her attention to Lwaxana. Concern was there, but Lwaxana was overcome with a sense of distrust. "What for?" the Trill said slowly, quietly.

"You need to come with us," the Lieutenant repeated, both he and his partner taking a few steps towards her.

"And if I refuse?"

"Pell, don't do anything stupid," Lwaxana warned, sensing the thought forming in Pell's mind. Pell held Lwaxana's eye for a short moment before turning her eyes onto the officers.

"I'd rather it not come to that."

Pell once again looked around the room. Her eyes darted over Lwaxana and the two officers, and instead focused on the young Lyson Moricz. The Vigolian stared at her with his grey-blue eyes, blue scales glittering in the light. His face was shadowed and he seemed tempted to look away from her. Ganit was watching with a neutral eye but hardly met Pell's look. Even T'Pel wasn't looking at her.

Looking back, she found the officers only a few steps away from her. Giving a small nod, the Lieutenant took her elbow and turned her around to escort her from the room. Pell looked back behind them as the other officer put out a hand to open the door. All four were watching her.

The officers afforded her some courtesy by releasing their hold on her arm and walking at a respectable distance from her. They escorted her down the hall and out into the open sun. A transport sat waiting for them and Pell slid in. The two officers seated themselves in the front.

As the transport began to move, she looked to the window only to find that it was tinted and impossible to see out of. Pell just sat waiting, loosing all track of time as the transport continued on its way. Eventually they stopped, Pell having no idea where they might be.

The officers opened their doors and stepped out of the transport. The Lieutenant opened her door for her and offered a hand to help her out. She looked around her, only to find that she was already inside the building.

"Where are we?"

"Just through here, ma'am," the Lieutenant said, taking her elbow again and leading her out of the transport bay. They stepped into a turbolift, stopping a few minutes later. Walking into the hall, Pell easily recognized the building.

"What are we doing here?" she asked, her tone demanding an answer. However, they remained quiet, angering her. "Why are we here?" she repeated, halting in the middle of a hallway in Alliance Medical.

"Please, ma'am, just come with us."

"Answer my question then."

"We will drag you there bodily if we must."

"I dare you to try."

The Lieutenant stared at her. "Is that a threat, ma'am?" She fumed, narrowing her eyes at the man, but she said nothing. "In here."

The Lieutenant put his hand on her elbow again, but Pell ripped it from his grip. She marched into the room, scowling at the sight of a doctor waiting inside. The doctor smiled at her, but Pell kept her face neutral, masking even her annoyance and suspicion.

"Just come in here if you don't mind. Thank-you."

Pell raised her chin, as if that was her last attempt at defiance. He looked over her shoulder at the officers, who were standing dutifully by the door, the Lieutenant's hand on his phaser.

With a small sigh, Pell approached the biobed, seating herself hesitantly on it. The doctor, a little hesitant, began running quick scans. She glanced over the results, before raising an eyebrow at the officers. They didn't react, but merely stood there and waited. Pell missed this interaction, too intent on ignore everything around her.

"Could you sit up, please?"

"Is that all?" She asked, doing as the doctor wanted.

"Almost." The doctor turned her back to the Trill, quickly picking up a hypospray and fastened a different attachment to it.

"What's that?"

The doctor placed one hand on Pell's face, tilting it to the side. As she placed the tip against Pell's skin, the Trill squirming, she said quickly, "Just need a little blood."

The two officers pulled out their phasers just as they noticed Pell's flinch. The doctor moved away quickly in reflex. Pell froze, her eyes on the two phasers pointed directly at her. The officers stared intently at her, worried about what she might do. But the doctor was staring at the blood she had taken from the Trill. She appeared shaken, but appeared to have expected what she saw.

Slowly she looked up, finding the face of Lwaxana Troi looking in. The woman shook her head and looked away.

/-/-/-/

/- _**A Few Days Later**_

"Mr. President!" Amen's head hardly moved at the shrill sound of his secretary's voice. His eyes simply darted towards her as his strides shrank into only hesitative movements. "You have an urgent communiqué."

His head pivoted for the first time and he glanced at the computer sitting open on his office desk. Then he looked back at Miss Langdon, "From whom?"

Brows squinted together when she didn't answer at first. Her eyes seemed somewhat blank, as if uncertain of how to answer. "It's classified, sir," was all she said. Amen could only stare at her for a moment longer until her eyes furtively motioned to a point near Amen. The President shifted his gaze to find that Ken was, in fact, still hovering at the door to Miss Langdon's office.

His eyes fell on Miss Langdon again and the slightly of nods bowed her head. Amen glanced at Ken and huffed, "Wait here."

Amen watched the man straighten, face clouded by confusion and curiosity. Ken nodded. "Yes, sir."

The door parted for him as he stepped inside his office, his feet curving around the large oak desk. He tapped the computer screen just before his knees gave out and he collapsed into the chair. He took a moment to compose himself and find his posture before he activated the commlink. The face that graced him was far from who he expected.

"Don't suppose you expected to see me?" A hint of humour clung to her words but her manner was once of seriousness.

Slowly, his mind found itself. He shook his head; his voice had the sense to say, "No."

"There's a situation."

He sighed. Somehow a chuckle threatened to escape him, but the humour vanished quickly. "There's a war, Ambassador Troi."

"I hadn't noticed." Large brown eyes smirked at him and he couldn't help but crack a smile. Enemy or not, war or not, Amen had still shared many late nights and many Council Meetings, and many fond memories of the Betazoid. "This has nothing to do with the war," she said, her voice harsher than he remembered it.

Curiosity peeked, his elbows found the edge of his desk and his back arched him closer to the screen. "I'm listening."

"Our forces have just recently discovered an unidentified vessel. Inside, we found over forty prisoners."

"Some of whom were Federation citizens."

"Six." He nodded, begging her to continue. "They were all taken from Federation territory between two or three years ago." Once again, he could only nod, waiting for more information. The way she looked down at her hands- he could imagine her rubbing at the back of her thumb the way she did decades before- gave him some idea of what was to come next. When her eyes met his again, she sighed, "Ambassador Ken Smith is among them."

He felt her words like ice. Every muscle in his body seemed to tense as his eyes trailed away from the viewscreen, finding the man he had left in the other room. Ken stood there, shifting his weight from foot to foot as his eyes shifted around the room.

"You heard me right," he heard her say, pulling his attention back to her face.

"I just spoke to Ambassador Smith."

"I'm sure you did. We discovered that all these people have been replaced with Changelings."

"Changelings?"

"Yes."

Slowly, his head began to shake back and forth. "I've had a changeling working with me for…?"

"Two years. Yes." The shaking just grew faster and, for a moment, he was inclined to just deactivate the link and pretend as if they had never had that conversation. "We need to meet."

He looked at her, body suddenly still. His jaw muscles clenched as he considered what she was asking. He imagined that if anyone but her had told him what he had just heard, he would have written it off as an Alliance ploy. But Lwaxana was a woman he could trust. And so, very deliberately, he nodded his head once. "Where?"

/-/-/-/

/- _**Around the Same Time**_

"Admiral."

"Captain," Riker returned with a nod as he entered the office. "Been a while."

"Yes, it has been," Sisko paused as the door shut closed behind the Admiral before saying, "I didn't think they'd send you."

Riker just shrugged, a gesture he made seem nonchalant by the casualness of the movement and the way his focus remained on the floor. "I didn't either. But here I am."

Sisko nodded as if Riker's words were unimportant to him. He looked to the chair before his desk, offering it to Riker with a sweeping gesture of his hand. "I heard you were assigned as commander of the Alpha Fleet."

Riker looked up at him, eyebrows raised and face displaying a look of mock joy, voice reflecting this with a sarcastic note as he replied, "Yeah."

"It'll get better."

"They tell me that about a lot of things." Sisko smirked, but the emotion never met his eyes. But then, Riker supposed, it probably hadn't too often in the recent years. Riker watched as Sisko sank into his chair and began talking, "So… these… people Commander Thomson and his team found?" He licked his lips, grasping for the right words. "Your doctor, what does he think?"

Looking down, Sisko cleared his throat. Looking back up, he announced confidently, "They are definitely not changelings. According to him, both the _Fitzgerald_and his own scans show that the DNA's a dead lock."

"Could be clones."

Sisko shook his head. "No. There are ways of telling that. They're not clones. They are who they say they are."

Riker leaned in closer, forearms resting on his thighs. "Then who's sitting on Earth right now? What Klingon General have I been working with all this time? Who, everyday, has my mother-in-law has been working with? Changelings?"

"Possibly."

"Why the hell would they care? Why? What could they possibly gain from mimicking these people?"

Sisko shrugged. "I don't know. All I know," he leaned closer as well, "is that I have a Cargo Bay full of people who have been unjustly held for a variety of years and are, as far as we can tell, who they say they are."

"And what, pray tell, do you want me to do with them?"

Sisko leaned back. "Let them go back to their lives."

"And I would love to, as long as someone can convince me that whoever is currently occupying that life isn't the one who's supposed to be there."

"Then take them to Betazed. Alliance Medical must have a better capacity to handle all these people than my station."

For a long moment, Riker just gazed steadily at the Captain. Sisko met his gaze, dark eyes matching the light ones. Finally Riker nodded. "I'll have a medical transport ship here within the next few days."

"I appreciate that."

"Anything else I can do for you?" His tone was sarcastic, harsher than he had intended. Sisko shook his head, making no gesture or comment to show that he noticed. All the Captain did was shake his head in response. "Okay then. Good day."

"Good day, Admiral."

/-/-/-/

/-_** Around the Same Time**_

Colonel Kira Neryslooked over at her two companions, shifting her weight in the seat as she asked, "When's the _Hippocrates_ arriving?"

"Tomorrow," Miles O'Brienwith a nod, "Fourteen hundred hours."

She smiled, "You all must be excited."

"I can't wait to see the little bugger," Doctor Julian Bashir said with a smirk, looking away from Quarks' bar and back at the Bajoran. "Jadzia can't either. I'm just worried about her trying to run around after him on top of everything else."

"How is she?" Miles asked, his brief moment of excitement washed away with a renewed concern for his friends.

Julian shrugged, "She's fine, just restless. She keeps trying to tell me that she's fine and doesn't need bed rest."

"She's two weeks late, of course she needs bed rest!" the Bajoran exclaimed.

"You tell her that." Julian paused for a moment, letting the conversation fall away before he said, "I hear you've been put in charge of all the returning Bajorans."

"Yeah," Kira nodded, "Nearly all of them are coming back. Plus dozens of others… I have to organize all the living arrangements." She sighed and made a face. The two guys smiled. "But it's nice to see things returning to normal around here."

"That depends on your definition of normal. I don't think this place has ever been 'normal'," the Chief mocked. Julian smirked, shaking his head, knowing the two were about to have at it again.

"Fine then, back to how it was a few months ago before everyone started to leave."

"That's better."

"Could do without the Klingons though," Julian gestured his head to the side, pointing out a bunch of arguing Klingons, their words loud enough to be heard in their back booth.

"Tarkalean Tea?"

Julian looked up at the Frengi, having jumped slightly at the shock. He raised his hand and the short alien placed the drink in front of him. The Frengi glanced over the table and placed the other two drinks without question, then turned and walked from the table. He looked over the crowd, noticing three unknown officers walk in.

He walked towards them, able to hear the woman say, "When're we heading back to Betazed?" just as they past by the arguing Klingons. She cast them a disapproving glare, but said nothing about them.

"Oh-nine hundred hours tomorrow morning," the green faced man responded, seating himself slowly at the table.

"Oh… that's early."

"That's early?" the Human male said sarcastically, "That's late to me."

"Yeah, considering you work the gamma shift. But for those of us who work the Alpha shift and then most of the Beta shift, that's sleep time."

The Human laughed, "Yeah, but you agreed to that schedule."

"Yeah… I know," the woman groaned and leaned back in her chair. She glanced up and saw the Frengi, motioning to him. "And now I've seen the error in my way and I'm not aloud to take it back."

She smiled and fell silent, watching as the Frengi approached them. He pulled out his PADD, ready to take their orders. The three called out their drinks and he left them, hearing the Human say, "You know, it's kind of quiet here. Usually, this place is rather boisterous," as he walked away.

Beverly shrugged just after the Frengi had left the table, "A lot of their civilians went to either Bajor or Betazed. I don't think half of them have returned yet." She motioned towards the Klingons, who were still shouting, as she smiled and said, "Good thing they have Klingons, otherwise it'd be rather dull." They all chuckled quietly, but said nothing more about it.

For a moment they stayed silent until Geordie looked back at both of his friends. "So any word on those changelings or whatever they are?" He glanced between them before his eyes fell on Beverly.

She gave a half shrug, saying, "We already went over this during the briefing."

"I know," Geordie sighed, "But I meant is there anything else? Anything new?"

"Not really."

Geordie nodded, glancing around himself for no particular reason. "Hey, isn't there that changeling here? Yeah, he's the one who… uh, Starfleet- the one that Starfleet was examining because of the Dominion thing."

Beverly nodded, slowly recalling what he was talking about. "God that was forever ago. But yeah, I think you're right."

Data nodded in agreement. "Yes, Constable Odo still resides here."

"Data, if you're going to work on this Human thing, we really have to work with you're vocabulary." The android merely raised an eyebrow; his friends smirked but held back their laughter.

Beverly looked up as a tall glass was placed in front of her. She smiled up at the Frengi.

The short alien placed the other two drinks down quickly before retreating to the back of the bar. He glanced over at the Bajoran and two Humans sitting in the far corner booth, hearing the doctor as he said, "Only problem is that normal still includes war and this station being under constant threat."

"Well that's a lovely way of putting it."

"I know but…" Julian trailed off, a frustrated sigh escaping him for the words wouldn't come to mind.

Kira started to speak, her tone one of empathy, as she, in an attempt to comfort him, said, "In the past eight weeks, we've only been attacked once. Once and with minor casualties."

"Now I know you've been promoted," Julian said with a slightly chuckle, trying to lighten the mood, "You're thinking too much like a colonel, Colonel." All three smiled at the joke, but the meaning was not lost upon Kira. She nodded and leaned back into her chair.

"Hey, how are those," Miles tilted his head from side to side trying to come up with a word, "whatever those are doing?"

"By that, I think you mean those people in the Cargo Bay who should be in an Infirmary? Yeah, they're fine."

"I think what the Chief is asking, Julian, is-"

"I know what he's asking," Julian snapped, looking down when he realized how harsh he had sounded. "How many times do I have to tell you? They're not changelings. They're not clones. And they're not whatever else you think you can come up with. Trust me. Those are the real people."

"Then who's replacing them?"

Julian rolled his eyes at the man. "Well I won't know that until I see whoever's been replacing them."

"Probably the Changelings," Miles said off handedly.

Julian shrugged. "Wouldn't doubt it."

"Wonder how Odo's taking this." Miles said, more to himself than the rest of the table. Suddenly, as if remembering her presence, he looked over at Kira. Not realizing why she hadn't joined the conversation, he asked, "How is he doing with all this?"

"He's fine, I think. I don't know." Kira took a breath and continued, "He won't talk about it."

"If the Alliance does find Changelings, do you think they'll-"

"Hey," she interrupted, Miles slightly taken aback. "Can we not talk about this?"

The two Humans looked at each other, Julian watching as suddenly realization dawned over the Chief's face. "Oh," he said, looking to Kira, "Right. Sorry…"

"So…" Julian drawled out, "Either of you watch parrises squares last night?"

/-/-

Sorry about the wait. Hope you enjoy! Drop a review and tell me what you think.


	24. Year 9: 2380, continued

/-/-/-/

/- _**One Week Later**_

His hands were cold. It was the first thing he noticed after he stepped out of the transport. Ringing them together, he sighed and shifted his weight off his left leg. His eyes travelled over the bland landscape of Galen before coming to rest the Starfleet officers assigned to protect him.

The sky was growing darker as the sun began to touch the horizon. He looked up, eyes keenly set on watching the stars. He watched it for a while before he realized what he was looking at. The way it moved, awkward and shakily; its stoutness and smallness against the backdrop of space; the blunted colour of grey. He watched it as it entered the atmosphere. He looked away, knowing that it was growing closer. He looked up just as the ground shuttered when it landed not far from where he was standing.

He just stood there, his thumb rubbing at his chilled fingers, as the hatch slowly cranked itself open. The officers flinched and two moved closer to him; the others remained still. But he could tell that all of them had tensed since they had spotted the transport.

Two Alliance Fleet officers stepped out first. Both of them tensed and he could see the concentration on their faces as they tried to keep from pulling their weapons. Lwaxana followed behind them. And two more followed behind her. She didn't acknowledge them, or even his security detail. He wondered when she had gotten so used to having one.

"Ambassador."

"Mr. President."

"You're sure these are the real people?"

"Absolutely. You didn't check the names we gave you?"

"No, we checked." He felt the need to look down from her gaze or shift his weight again or even bring his hands back together, but he resisted all those urges. He wondered if any title in the known galaxy would be able to keep him from feeling so intimidated of her. "They're here. They want to know why the hell they're here."

She just nodded, as if she understood the dilemma. "Understandable. We'll make the switch quiet."

"I want to know what you're going to do with them?"

"The changelings? The same thing we're going to do with others we've found."

"And that is?"

He watched the way her eyes hardened and the muscles in her neck stiffened. The quiet, harsh tone of her voice told him everything he needed to know. "It's not your concern." He caught her eye then. Even so slightly, he nodded. He only knew that she had seen because of the way she looked away and her body relaxed subtly.

He missed the gesture she made to her security detail, but suddenly two of them had ducked back into the transport. It took a few minutes of breathless silence before they walked out of it again with six others trailing behind. It was the moment he had been dreading. There he was. The man he had trained and mentored stood at just outside the transport, eyes wearily glancing around the same landscape Amen had been inspecting only minutes before. And then he found Amen. Amen watched as his eyes dropped slightly, finding a spot on his chin like he had always done. But then he looked away and his back straightened and his shoulders squared and suddenly Amen found himself staring directly into Ken's eyes. It was the same man, and yet it was a completely different man.

/-/-/-/

/-_** February, Two Weeks Later**_

Her back was rigid against the stiff tree, her feet resting lightly on top the warm sand, her eyes shut closed, and her breathing light. She simply sat like this for nearing an hour. It was quiet. Soft noises echoed around her, but nothing bothered her. The high sun beat gently upon her skin, warming her entire body in the cooling afternoon.

Slowly the Trill opened her eyes. It had been close to two years since Ambassador Pell Lynn had been free to move about as she wished. To walk where ever she wanted. To eat something with taste and enjoy it. It had been two years ago when she last left Trill that her freedom had been snatched away. Her transport ship had been halted by what the pilot had thought was an Alliance scout ship. In reality it was, as she knew long afterwards, a disguised Dominion ship. They weren't Jem'Hadar, Changelings maybe, and so the thought then hadn't occurred to her then.

But that night, months and days later, she sat looking out at her garden knowing this fact. It was Ayla's garden, really. She barely ever saw Ayla before she was captured. She had so little time away from Betazed and Ayla refused to move away from Trill. Before she was taken, she had called often and Ayla had visited some.

She had missed her wife so badly. It was the thought of her, the loneliness that kept her awake so long at night. Any yet, it was these thoughts of Ayla that kept her sane.

Those nights were hard. Being alone. Cold. Tired from lack of anything to do. It was an awful experience. They weren't beaten. Food was delivered twice a day, promptly and plentiful, though inedible. The place was sanitary- she never once became ill during her imprisonment. It was all mental. All emotional.

The Romulans kept to themselves. The Klingons were vocal about escape and always itching to find a way out. They tried several times but failed. She knew if anyone was to blame for the rise in tension or energy of the prison, it was the Klingons. No change in clothing was given to them and so the identification of Federation and Alliance was obvious. Hardly ever would one agree with the other. And of course, they allowed themselves to be led by Ken Smith. Nothing was worse than his incessant annoyances. But, as the first year wore on, he became quiet and reserved, a slowly growing fire forming in his eyes. He gained a backbone in the prison and a better sense of when to speak.

Two years was a long time to be there, but amazingly she found that she was far from being first. One young man she had befriended in the prison had been there three years before her. A'kob was his name. As one who had been there for some time, he had taken her under his wing and showed her around. He was someone to talk to at night, a voice to break the silence of loneliness. At first he did not address himself as anything but A'kob and she never asked about it farther. They were all no one in that prison- they meant nothing. That's what he said, and as the days droned by, she found herself agreeing. They meant nothing; their titles gave them no privileges. They all merely existed.

A'kob often wondered at night, telling her this through half muttered musing, if they would ever be released. Her first response was after the war. That made no sense, as A'kob told her, for the Romulans weren't in the war and the Federation wouldn't be holding their own people. It was a great conspiracy, he had decided, with clones being created by a powerful third party to start the war. An experiment, perhaps. By taking just the right people, not the figureheads but those that mattered, they could start a war. He was mostly right, it seemed.

The day the Alliance officers walked in was the biggest shock to all of them. Never had they seen that door open- new prisoners were transported in and had stopped arriving shortly after her. But there stood a small team of Alliance officers staring dumbfounded at them, pointing phasers as if this mass of ragged people were the enemy.

The officers explained with as few words as possible the predicament they had found themselves in. Hours later they were being scanned, poked, and prodded. Two days later they were all on a medical ship heading for Betazed, having been confirmed to be not changelings. A week later, they were quarantined in Alliance medical. The Federation citizens disappeared one day and, weeks after that, a few others followed. The Klingons were next and then the bulk of the Alliance citizens. She was one of them.

The night before, A'kob took the bed next to her and they talked in hushed whispers as they had so often for two years. About nothing. About made-up things. And then, for the first time, she asked him who he was. He didn't answer for a long time. Finally he said that he was the son of King Pathros, ruler of all Zezton territory. The changeling killed his father and took the throne, that was what he had heard. He never asked once about how they would fix his problem- she thought maybe he already knew. But suddenly she found herself worrying for the Federation citizens and even the Romulans. But she didn't know how the Alliance was going to help them.

That next day she and eleven others were escorted out. A'kob stood in the corner, watching her from afar. She smiled, throwing him a small wave. He bowed his head and then disappeared from her sight.

Ayla had been a most welcomed sight that morning. Lwaxana was there as well and she was invited to the Ambassador's house. The next morning, she and Ayla were heading back to Trill. She was apprehensive about stepping onto the transport, but the four days had been uneventful. All but for her one question- she asked many questions, but one was weighted the most, considered the most, and asked in the lowest of whispers.

She had thought it many times of the past months, but finally, during the trip, she asked. She asked how Ayla hadn't noticed she was gone. How she hadn't realized the imposter for what it was. Ayla didn't answer at first. Eventually, she said that the imposter did nothing to make her suspicious. Acted so like her that she only thought twice that something was wrong. Only twice, and both times she had put them off as stress.

It hurt, she would admit, that no one knew. It hurt to realize after months upon months of hope that no one had been out there looking for her. No one. It hurt, but she understood. She was mad, but she squelched the thoughts, the emotions, and marched on. That was all she could do.

For two years, she was no one. While that thought was in the back of her mind, she never realized how true that statement was. Someone else was her; someone else was Pell Lynn, Ambassador to Trill. That only made it so much harder…

/-/-/-/

"_The whole thing was a nightmare. The Alliance citizens and Klingons were relocated easily. The Changelings were arrested and their… counterparts were returned to civilization. But the two Romulans and six Federation citizens. Oi, what a nightmare. Took forever to figure out how to make that work. Hell, even I was never told how it was down. Lwaxana refuses to speak about it. All I know is that every one of them ended up where they were supposed to be by the end of the year- I guess that means about a week ago…_

"_Of course that wasn't all that was going on. There was still a war on… And first thing at the beginning of the year, we had a planet to secure._

"_Bolius' condition was as we expected it to be: relatively undamaged. The clean-up was easy enough. For nearly a week ground troops found and detained any remaining Starfleet officers- I don't remember how many. The new Ta'naz- formerly, Ambassador Pok- was traveling there as this went on. A new Ambassador has been appointed to the Alliance- Gint or Gent or something. I don't know. Lwaxana hates him; she never uses his right name. _

"_Anyway, Pok arrived on Bolius in due time and, of course, took charge. Alliance Fleet finished up and, some, left with the prisoners…"_

/-/-/-/

/- _**Around the Same Time**_

She hadn't seen him for some years. Pok- Ambassador Pok of the House of Mysel-Hal, that is, never came to Bolius to discuss matters with the Ta'Naz. Never once. But he came on other matters- that's when she saw him.

As a boy she knew him. A snob yes, but a brilliant one. His father worked with her and he brought the boy from time to time.

She never saw him as a teen- away at school must of the time. The next time they crossed paths wasn't until he was twenty-seven and starting his life as a politician. He had matured some but still acted like a robust child. His humor was sharp but often misplaced. He was bored intellectually and slacked. And yet she never fired him. She should have many times but never did.

He grew out of his job with her, but she never truly felt as if he had ever grown responsibility-wise. Even at that moment, she worried. Ambassador Pok was not known for his tact, but rather for his genius.

And so, on that day, standing there waiting for him, she doubted her new Ta'Naz. She never doubted his ability, just his emotional and mental stability.

"Tawyn? He's here." Tawyn looked up at her assistant, a young Bolian woman. She held what was once a young Pok's job.

Standing, Tawyn walked slowly around her desk, meeting the assistant at the office door. Taking a deep breath, she walked around her assistant and out into the hall. Glancing to the side, she rolled her eyes at the two Alliance Fleet officers working at the computer.

The Federation had taken over the building, as they had with so many others. Nothing was damaged and no harm had been done to the computers. Some files had been lost and the system needed to be completely redone. It was coming along slowly, aggravatingly so.

Passing by an office, she looked mechanically over at it, not at all surprised to see it open to permit to others to join them. She didn't say anything and neither did they. Instead they just walked down the corridor towards the transport bay.

Minutes past and the scenery changed before they reached their destination. Pausing, Tawyn looked down at the panel, checking to see if they were allowed to enter. The light turned green and the four stepped inside and there he was.

Pok, from the House of Mysel-Hal, newly appointed Ta'Naz, gazed steadily around the room. It was small, but also only intended for the Ta'Naz's shuttle. He knew they were there, but he ignored them for the moment, just as he ignored the man behind him unloading his luggage. It had been a while since he stood in that room, a very long time ago, in a very different time. He was absorbed into that memory for a short time, reliving an easier time.

"Ta'Naz? Sir?"

The softly spoken words greeted his ears just barely. He turned his eyes slowly to look at the owner of the voice. He observed her for a moment. Blue face, like his, wearing flowing robes to mark her position. Wrinkles had appeared and the blue tint of her skin was no longer as vivid as it once was.

A smile pulled at his lips. "Hello, Tawyn. It has been too long." Even to his own ears, the words were quiet and drawn, speaking more volumes about his exhaustions than his eyes. He knew this had evidently surprised her, this woman used to nothing but energy and a cynical remark from him. But, nevertheless, he could find no more energy in him.

"Yes it has," she agreed, finally bringing herself to approach him, the others following her. He glanced them over, not recognizing any of them. And so he ignored them, focusing on her instead. "If you'll follow us, we'll show you to your office. We can brief you there if you like." A noise had drawn his attention from Tawyn before she finished. He stared over her shoulder, watching the door slowly hiding the sky from sight.

"Ta'Naz?"

He looked at her. "Huh?"

"Your office?" He looked back at the now closed door and shook his head. "Ta'Naz?"

He shook his head again. "No. Let's go outside."

"Sir?"

It was one of the two men that had spoken, but he just kept his attention on Tawyn. "Outside. I want to see my world, Tawyn. Please?"

A shadow of her full smile returned to her face as she nodded. "Yes, sir." She turned and gestured up at the control booth. Pok turned to watch the door slid back open and the forceshield snap off.

He didn't wait for the others, nor did he bother saying anything, rather he just walked out. Footsteps only confirmed that the others were behind him.

"Sir, this is Colst, he's my deputy." Pok grunted his understanding in the man's way. Then he went back to ignoring the lot of them, even as Tawyn continued to introduce them. He didn't care to know them that moment. He cared to know his world, to know it in a way he never had.

He watched the people, most Bolians, some Alliance aliens, as they wondered the streets. He noticed the areas barricaded and the areas work teams were still fixing and the areas that the security officers were patrolling. He nodded solemnly at anyone who looked his way, but did no more than that. For having so many things going on in his mind, he had nothing to say. He was sure Tawyn had told him which would put words in his mouth for him and who would write something he was sure would be quiet beautiful to secure his place as ruler.

No, he truly didn't care for anything at that moment, his heart so filled with pain.

/-/-/-/

/- _**A Few Days Later**_

"What's next?"

"You're meeting with Ambassador Tinth Par Tetch."

"Oh." Tayd looked up from his PADD, rolling his eyes at the sarcasm, as he scurried after Lwaxana. She made a face at the name, glancing at him, she smiled. "Don't tell me she doesn't annoy you with her endless droning. And then, maybe after she's done, you can start to talk to her about something other than her own life." The Trill snickered, though he tired to keep his face straight. "Yeah. You know what I'm talking about."

"After that," Tayd said to pull the conversation back on neutral ground, "You have a meeting with the Supreme Council Elect."

"Now there are three old windbags." Tayd tried desperately to give her a stern glare, but on the inside he was laughing too hard. The Supreme Council Elect had been hand selected by the Alliance Council and voted upon by the Alliance Council of Representatives- all were old, opinionated, and, quite frankly, they never shut up. However they knew the law better than anyone.

"We need to work on your mental discipline, Todd, you're horrible at hiding your thoughts."

Tayd shook his head and returned his sight to the schedule. "Afterwards you have a short briefing with the Alliance commanders-"

"They should call them twenty hours of plotting what to blow up- not short briefings. Continue."

Tayd paused before he said, "Then you have a meeting with Ambassador Ganit."

"Oh." Tayd looked up again at the sour note her voice hit. It was rare that she said anything akin to without a sarcastic note to follow.

Lwaxana sighed and looked over at Tayd. "It's not that I don't like him-" she cut herself off, looking away for a moment, considering, "Well, actually I don't, but that's not really the point. He's frustrating and chauvinistic and conceited and… and…"

"He's no Pok."

"Exactly." Lwaxana's face scrunched into a frown as she looked at him. Tayd shrugged. "You know, I never thought I'd ever say this, but I miss the arrogant little cad."

"He was quite a character," Tayd agreed as they rounded a corner.

"Who am I meeting again?"

"Ambassador Tinth Par Tetch."

"Anything else after Gint?"

"Ambassador Ganit and no, you're free to go home."

"Well then, just a few hours for each- I should be out of here by sunrise."

"The sun just rose." Lwaxana spared him only a backwards glance before ripping the door opened and marching inside without the Trill.

/-/-/-/

/- _**Around The Same Time**_

Slam.

Lieutenant Kalan's head shot up at the sound of a crash. Eyes slightly wide, he stood from his chair out in the hallway, inching slowly towards the door to see if anything was wrong.

An eerie silence followed inside the room. Kalan peeked in, curious. A figure hung ominously over the far bench, leaning half his weight against the wall. Clad in an Alliance uniform, the figure masked the person sitting on the bench. Kalanwatched, hearing hushed whispers of what the man was saying in his mind. He watched, knowing better than to interrupt.

His posture became erect at the prickling in the back of his mind. He watched cautiously as the figure pounded his fist against the wall, turning sharply to leave. Kalan stepped away from the door just as the man stormed out.

"That arrogant little-" Captain Baylie halted his words nearly as soon as he uttered them. He looked up at the Betazoid and forced out a breath. Kalan watched the older man for a moment before glancing back inside the cell. The prisoner did not seem harmed in anyway.

"He's not talking, the smug little twerp." Kalan's brow rose at the phrase, but he remained silent. "Would you like to go in there and see what you can find?"

"I'm not-" Kalan stopped, looking up quickly at the captain, "Oh… Sir, I-"

Baylie halted the man's words simply by raising a hand, his head handing slightly. He looked Kalan in the eye as he said,"I know. I'm sorry, Kin. He's not going to talk. Not for a while anyway. We got another one waiting?"

The Betazoid nodded, twisting a PADD in his hand to offer it to the captain. "Over there," he said simply, gesturing his head towards the door just on the left of them. Baylie nodded at the door, then took the PADD from the Betazoid's hand.

"Thank-you," he said quietly. Forcing in a deep breath, he briefly caught Kalan's eyes. The Betazoid smirked. Baylie turned away stepped up to the cell door. He brought up his hand to have it scanned, but drew it back. He turned and looked over at the wall. Kalan arched an eyebrow at him but said nothing. Baylie tapped a few buttons on the wall console. Soon after a glittering light flashed and left a coffee mug in its wake. Baylie grabbed the mug, the PADD under his arm as he scanned his hand.

Looking down at the PADD, his eyes scanning over the information, he walked into the room. He heard someone squirm against the metal chair and knew the man was turning on the hard bench to see him. But the Captain just ignored him, setting down his mug as he sank slowly into the chair across from the prisoner, eyes still trained on the words.

He felt the man's eyes burning into his forehead. The man wasn't moving but his breath was labored. The words began to blur as Baylie listened to his prisoner; he was no longer reading but continued the façade for effect.

Finally, after a long moment, he looked up to find himself face to face with a middle aged Human male. His black hair was greying and his face was starting to be covered with grey whiskers. Baylie looked into his eyes, finding them light and filled with a fearful trepidation.

His face remaining straight, Baylie looked back down at the PADD. "Dr. Brionen?"

"Yes." His voice was deep and hoarse.

Baylie looked back up at him. "I am required to inform you that you are now a prisoner of the Alliance. You can choose to cooperate and make your stay far more tolerable or you can choose not to cooperate…" Baylie cocked his head to the side as he huffed out an intimidating little laugh, "and it won't be. What's your choice?"

The doctor looked away. He slouched, leaning heavily against the wall. Baylie watched him, this time letting his eyes burrow into the man's scull. He just waited and watched, face passive and eyes burning with fire still unquenched from minutes before.

The doctor licked his lips before looked back at Baylie. "Captain," he said slowly, having taken the time to identify his rank, "I- I don't agree with President Amen." Baylie nodded, waiting. "I didn't even vote for him," the doctor said with the slightest of laughs. Baylie didn't smirk, though he thought, in another situation, he might have. "I didn't want to remain in the Federation after the split."

"Then why didn't you request to be transferred into the Alliance?" Baylie's voice was even as he asked the question. He was still watching the man closely, though the doctor was staring at his hands.

The doctor, however, looked up at that. "I tried! I tried to get across the border and join the Alliance but you can't… you can't understand…" He trailed off and Baylie just sat there, PADD between his hands, as he watched. "You can't understand how impossible travel was inside the Federation! Much less outside! You can't possibly-" he cut himself off, looking up at Baylie. "'Federation' citizens could return without problem. 'Non-Federation' citizens, as they already were called, had a terrible time getting through the border. Had to have approval and all that. But for a 'Federation' citizen to leave… nearly impossible. I tried, sir, I did but I couldn't get a pass out and the Alliance was already being bombarded with their kind returning home. They simply had no room."

Baylie nodded. "I understand." He looked down, then back up at the man. "And yet you are still a member of Starfleet and that makes you the enemy. You are still a prisoner, I can't change that. However, if you cooperate, you will be sent to a minimum detention center." The doctor nodded. Baylie, too, bobbed his head. Taking his PADD, he tapped a few buttons. "You wouldn't mind answering a few questions then?" The man shook his head, adjusting his body so that he was sitting up straighter against the cell wall.

Baylie cleared his throat and looked down at the PADD and read, "Where were you last stationed?"

"I served aboard the _Gregory_, one of the ships occupying Bolius, as the Chief Medical Officer."

Baylie raised an eyebrow at him but continued, "Where you ever privy to any information detailing attack plans or anything of the like?"

Brionen took a moment before nodding his head. "Yes, but no… future plans. I mean, I knew about what they planned for after Bolius but I would imagine it's been scrubbed."

Baylie nodded. He looked back up at the doctor. "As a doctor, what can you tell me about a biological weapon used several times against the Alliance?"

The doctor seemed to freeze a little, mouth opening some as his head shook. "Nothing."

"Nothing? You don't know how it works? Any of the make up of it?"

The doctor just continued to shake his head. "I… I don't know what you're talking about."

"You've never heard of the Federation's biological weapon that has been used several times against the Alliance?"

"No. No, sir. I… that's-" the doctor cut himself off and looked at the far corner of the room. "A biological weapon? How many has it killed?"

"It's purpose isn't to kill- at least it doesn't normally. But I believe over a hundred have been exposed."

"Are they… how…?"

"There's no cure."

"Just Alliance officers or…?"

Baylie shook his head. "Children too." The doctor closed his eyes, his lips moving in silent prayer. Baylie looked back down at his PADD, scrolling through the doctor's information. "It says here you specialize in neurological pathogens?" The doctor nodded his head in two large bobs. "Would you be willing, if my superiors allow it, to assist the doctors with these infected patients?"

There was no answer for a long while. Slowly Brionen turned to look at Baylie. All he did was nod.

/-/-/-/

/- _**The Following Day**_

The turbolift shuddered to a stop at level five. Dr. Salizahan looked up from her silent musings to find the doors swooshing opened. She stepped out, looking to her left to find a two security officers reclining in their chairs.

One straightened when he saw her and stood when she approached him. "I'm here to see a Dr. Brionen."

"Family?" he asked. She raised a brow at him, as if to imply silently what a pathetic question. But she refrained from response, understanding that it must be a routine question.

"No. I'm here on business."

The guard nodded as he walked around the desk. He gestured to the right hallway and Sal followed him down. He didn't say anything to her, which she appreciated. She was tired and wasn't particularly impressed that she had been given this job and therefore wasn't in the mood to be speaking with anyone- not the security guard let alone Dr. Brionen, human Starfleet officer.

The security officer slowed his pace, and Sal did as well, remaining a step or two behind him. He glanced to the sides and Sal followed his gaze. Finally he took a few steps forward and halted in front of a single door. She looked over, not surprised to find that, rather than a door, there was a forceshield glimmering in her way.

Peering in, she found- as she knew she would- that the shield blocked the majority of her sight. She could vaguely see a figure hunched in the corner of the bench, mostly likely leaning his back against the wall.

Turning back to the security guard, she said, "I need to give him this." The guard took the PADD from her hand and glanced the contents over. He looked up at her and nodded. She turned back to the figure inside the cell. "You asked for this?" The figure looked up. She couldn't see his eyes; she just knew where his face was.

Dr. Brionen stood, approaching the forceshield. He glanced over at the guard before returning his gaze to Dr. Salizhan.

"Is that information on this… Federation weapon?"

"Yes," she said coolly, staring directly at what she knew to be the doctor. She couldn't see his face, but she imagined him to be old, haggard looking. Brown eyes. Dark hair. "Everything we know about it. Including a list of all those affected."

Brionen nodded; at least she thought he nodded. She looked at the guard and nodded at him. He turned to the console on the wall, and, punching a few buttons, he opened a small whole in the shield to allow her to slide the PADD through.

"Thank-you." Sal nodded curtly; Brionen just looked down at the PADD, already skimming through the data. She waited a moment, as if anticipating a question or comment. But, when he said nothing, she turned to go.

"Doctor?"

Sal paused, her back to the cell. She hesitated, and for a moment it seemed like she wouldn't turn back around. Finally grey eyes found the blurred face, imagining brown eyes behind the static. She didn't say anything; instead she waited for him to continue.

"I-" he paused, glancing down, "I know you must not like this but… but I can help. You can't honestly wish to turn that away, can you? I'm not saying I'll find this cure, but… I still can't believe that the Federation made much less uses a biological weapon- especially one used against innocent children. If you think I'm not enraged, then you're wrong. Very wrong. I am. I want to help."

Sal looked down and drew in a long breath. She nodded, almost to herself, before looking back up at him. "I appreciate that." Brionen nodded, but she doubted he believed she had any sincerity in her last words. She wasn't sure if she did. Sal finally turned away and walked from the room.

Turning down the hall, Sal's steps slowed, her eyes drooping closed.

She would admit, as she had to Deanna, that it wasn't the idea that she was getting help from a Federation prisoner that bothered her. What had infuriated her wasn't that, it was the fact that he had known nothing about it. She had thought that all of Starfleet had known, she had thought so low of all Federation doctors for that reason for so long that she had an immediate aversion towards the man when she had first heard about him. But he hadn't known, and that just killed everything she had thought about a lot of people. It made it a lot harder to feel like killing these people was worth it.

/-/-/-/

"_I wouldn't say the attacks are getting better. The Mikolians are fighting as ruthlessly as ever. Even the Federation ships seem to have a deeper passion to end the war. The Klingons- without being able to apply half of our advancements- are being utterly decimated. We've tried to convince them that they are of better use in less Mikolian populated areas. But they refuse to feel like they are being cowards. It's not cowardice- it's suicide. _

"_But there have been less of them in recent months. Less… but they haven't stopped. They'll never stop…_

"… _it's these attacks that made… things… all these attacks… some many dead. So many… _

"_I don't know what possessed me. I don't… I just did it. I was upset. I was furious… but, most of all… I was scared. I didn't think of it. Someone put the idea in my head- but I don't think they would have agreed with what I did._

"_The people of the Federation knew nothing. They probably think- thought- the war was some small, insignificant skirmishes over territory or something. Probably. But not now- they can''. Not unless they believe Amen. They must thought- he's being approved for a third term. He still has to be elected thought- some how those odds are in his favor. _

"_Even with what I told them… I told them…"_

/-/-/-/

/- _**Two Weeks Later**_

"ETA, Commander?"

The response came naturally, his fingers flowing over the console the moment he heard the words, his eyes merely glancing at the display before the words left the Captain's mouth. "Seven hours, twenty-three minutes, sir."

The Commander looked up at his Captain, the Human joining his D'Karaian first officer in the center of the bridge. He spoke softly to the first officer. The Commander could hear but didn't care to listen. Instead, he looked away, returning to his thoughts and scans.

He watched the readouts on the screen, and though his mind processed all that flashed across the screen, his conscious mind saw none of it. He recognized the lines of borders, blimps representing ships- all enemies. None of these things bothered him and so he said nothing. He watched the systems go by as the seconds passed by slowly.

His face sagging with exhaustion, dark circles under his eyes having formed over weeks. He sighed, leaning back in his chair. He rubbed his eyes, rubbing life back into his skin. Biting back a yawn, he stretched quickly before leaning forward again and continuing his blank watching of his screen.

Fatiguewas not entirely the cause of his distraction; his mind was occupied by other thoughts. Thoughts of hours to come haunted him, weighed him down with the pressure of his assignment.

For four he had stood aboard that ship- the vessel he had once respected but now nearly forced himself to love- and watched as he himself caused the destruction of so much. He understood that when he was younger, graduating from the Academy, but he hadn't realized just what it would feel like. What it would be like. What he would be asked to do.

He never knew when he took all those classes that he would be selected. He had agreed without knowing what it was to the position; three hours later he had finished reading the reports, unable to back out of the agreement. He had tried to force the guilt from his mind since the first hours of having his assignment, but finally after years he was weighed down with the horrible growing shamethat had plagued him since that day.

A small blimp on the map began to flash and started to move. He ignored it first, eyes half glazed over as he fell further into his thoughts. Further into his guilt. But then, somewhere in his unconscious mind, he recognized the increasing flashing of the blimp as a bad thing and forced himself to focus.

"Sir," the Commander called out to his Captain. The Human looked up, worry just barely covering over his annoyance at being interrupted. "An Alliance ship is approaching."

"Damn," the Captain swore under his breath. "How close?"

He glanced down even though he had already committed the numbers and trajectory to memory. "Nine-hundred thousand kilometers."

"Helm?"

He felt the ship veer off course and watched as the blimp changed course with them. The ship changed trajectory once again, and once again the Alliance ship was on their tail.

Shaking his head, he called out, "They're still on us, sir. And gaining."

"Take us to Warp Nine, Helm. Commander, how much longer until we arrive the destination?"

"Three hours at Warp Nine," the Commander reported.

"We don't have that long," the first officer commented. The Captain nodded and the Commander returned his focus to the screen. The blimp had increased speed and was still following them.

"Are you suggesting we fight?"

The Commander looked up to find his Captain looking between the first officer and him. The first officer shrugged, indecisive. The Commander caught the Captain's eye. "We might be heavily armed, but we don't stand a chance if that Alliance ship has been upgraded like the others."

"No…" the Captain said slowly, eyes finding the ground as he pondered something. The Commander felt his throat go dry as he realized what his Captain was thinking. He knew it was their only option, but he feared the possibilities that would stem from it.

Forcing his eyes away from his Captain, he watched the red blimp as it flashed on his screen, moving steadily with them. He thought of all the poor souls on that ship, the hundreds of lives that would add to the weight he held firmly on his shoulders. The empty shells of people he would leave behind.

He hated what they told him to do. As the only one ship that used, or truly had any real knowledge of this biological weapon, he was asked to be the only one who was ever forced to use it. And he had, several times. He had harmed children, he knew, and hundreds of others. The Bolians in the capital city and the first victims of some nameless outpost. Maybe it had a name, but he never cared to memorize it.

Swallowing back the protest he cravedto cry out, he stared, face hardening, at the screen. Finally his eyes moved on to look at his Captain. The Human stared hard at him for a moment, before nodding his head. The Commander knew what was coming next.

/-/-/-/

/- _**May, Two Months Later**_

"_Greetings to my fellow Federation citizens… It is no secret as to why I am speaking with you tonight…"_

Riker's face remained impassive as he listened to President Amen's voice replay a portion of his speech. His eyes watched as the man looked out at the holographic writing that the audience couldn't see. Riker's body was rigid, tense, his face cold and etched with anger.

"_You're the reporter?"_

"_Yeah. Daniel C-"_

"_Don't tell me. Were you followed?"_

"_What's this about? Look, this is very dangerous ground I'm treading on and I need to know if it's worth-"_

"_What if I told you about a weapon."_

"_You're the military officer- I have no interest in that."_

"_Wait!… The Federation Council allowed for the creation and use of a biological weapon against, not only Alliance officers, but civilians. Children. Is that worth is?"_

He simply stood soberly. Thinking back, hearing the words without hearing himself. He had thought it over, he had endured the lack of judgment and the _impetuous_ instincts and yet, in the end, he had done it.

"_Doesn't entirely surprise me that the population was never told. Just that others in Starfleet didn't know."_

"_What do you think about it, Will?"_

"_I don't really know, Sal. Just that… Well that they ought to know."_

"_And who's going to tell them? Amen? Or Smith?"_

"_Not even the media would dare print this story."_

"_No? Probably not…"_

Riker's body grew limp with his tension. His mind was so far gone from his body in thought that he no longer felt it. No longer realized its existence. He no longer saw anything as it truly was, and yet he watched the scene play out before him. He no longer heard what was truly echoing around him, though he heard words ringing in his ears.

"_Just hours ago, a dissident media terminal reported the supposed existence of a biological weapon the Federation has allegedly developed and used against the people of the Alliance… This, however, is not true. This fabricated weapon does not exist, nor has the thought of one's creation ever been conceived of. These blatant lies about the government of the Federation and Starfleet will not be tolerated. T-"_

Riker's eyes burned dark like hot coals, staring into the black screen. He didn't see it, hadn't since he had first looked at it, and yet he stared.

Slowly, as if compelled by some foreign instinct, he turned his head to the side. He sensed her presence, though could not understand well enough to process that he knew what he felt. Deanna stood softly watching him and then approached him, ignoring the onslaught of the fierce emotions escaping him. Gently she ran her hand over his shoulder, caressing his back as she pulled him to her. Her fingers tangled into his hair, her lips grazed his cheek as she whispers soft words into his ears. He hardly heard her, hardly saw her, all he could do was feel her touching his mind.

/-/-/-/

"_We don't hear a lot about what's happening on Earth. But some things get through. Amen's going to be re-elected. The Mars Parrises Squares team won the championships. The Trills would'a won, but- _

"_Years ago, we heard a little about some kind of resistance movement. The Skling N'Tar- or something like that, I've never had a good Trill accent. Anyway, they have considerable possibilities. They seem to know what's going on and they're determined to tell everyone what they know. _

"_Someone propositioned to go look for them. They could make good allies. But- someone else said- if we know, Amen knows. And if Amen knows, he'll do everything in his power to wipe them out. He might. But, then again, they seem to know everything going on around them, I don't doubt they know this…"_

/-/-/-/

/- _**Same Time As The Broadcast**_

His lungs were starting to burn from the humid air. His chest puffed out, and then was forced in to suck in ragged breaths. Thighs burned as they took long strides forward. He reached out a hand to knock away a branch. Bloodied cuts had formed on his face and unprotected arms, but he had ignored them that far.

He turned, dashing around a tree, hopping over a log, and sprinting towards a stream twenty meters away.

His ears perked. He could hear them behind him. They would be able to find him; he didn't know how to avoid detection. He ran faster.

Feet hit water, slashing onto his pant leg. He sucked in deep breaths, turning to his right and running along the stream.

The voices seemed to be getting closer. They had been running behind him for what seemed like eternity. The stopped when he left the city but they must have gotten close enough once again.

He kept running. He could hear the transporter above him. He wondered how many times they had tried to beam him up. They wouldn't be able to.

Running faster, lungs and legs burning more with every step. With every breath. His thoughts strayed to his friends. He wondered if the two were alright. They had split up back in the city.

He stumbled, reached a hand out to steady himself as his knees hit the ground, splashing warm water in his face.

"I've got something up this way!"

He looked behind him, dark eyes peering over the wooded area, seeing shadows of movement.

He filled his lungs and jumped to his feet, running the last few meters.

His body suddenly became limp. The burning stopped. The breath left his lungs. The greenery before his eyes disappeared, replaced by nothingness.

He stumbled forward, catching himself before he ran into anything. Air rushed into his lungs. He blinked, before sighing in relief at the sight before him.

"You okay, Andy?"

Andy nodded a few times, running a hand over the back of his blue hair. Then he looked at Reggie and smirked, "That was fun."

The brunette let out a sudden laugh. "You got it?"

Andy patted his pocket. "Right here."

"Good."

/-/-/-/

/- _**An Hour Later**_

"Well."

"They got away, sir."

"All three of them?"

Hill looked down at his feet. "Yes, sir. They split up and ran to what I can only guess were prearranged coordinated. They obviously had assistance."

"The Sklig N'Tar?"

Hill shrugged. "Who else?"

"I want them crushed, Admiral. Do you understand? Every last one."

"Yes, sir."

"I want them dealt with," Amen continued without pause, not hearing Hill's words. "The media has been having a field day with these people. I want them stopped. I need the media focused on other things."

"Yes, sir. I'll-"

"Destroyed, Hill! Do you hear me?" Hill straightened at suddenly finding Amen's finger in his face.

"I hear you, sir. Destroyed."

"Very good. Dismissed." Hill nodded curtly, waiting just a moment before turning and walking out quickly.

Amen sighed, twistingaround to look out the window again. He sighed, staring more at the raindrops springing off the forceshield than the rose garden.

"Ken?"

"Y-yes, sir?" Amen didn't take his eyes off the glittering shied as Ken looked up at the president.

"Leave."

Ken paused before nodding. "Yes, sir." He stood and walked over to the door, it slid open at his presence. Ken glanced back at Amen, who finally turned to look at him. Their eyes locked and Ken felt a shudder run down his spine. He looked away and quickly turned out of the room.

/-/-

Well there was the next chapter. Hope you enjoyed! Please drop a review and let me now how it's going so far. Or just talk. Ramble. I'm not picky.


	25. Year 9: 2380, continued again

/-/-/-/

/- _**At The Same Time**_

Reggie yawned, rubbing her eyes as she wandered down the corridor.

They had been hiding in Pluto's orbit, avoiding Earth Patrol transports searching for them. Andy was sending what he found on Earth to the Alliance. He explained it all to her but she would admit she had no idea what he said past. "All I have to do is…"

Reggie turned the corner, only her feet knowing where they were going.

Andy promised he would only be ten more hours. Manick was only giving him eight.

She yawned, eyes half opened as she turned the corner. She forced a small smile, "Hey, Kev." The Mars-native nodded at her, but Reggie noticed he was distracted, as were they all.

Continuing down the hall, Reggie's thoughts returned to her friends. Most fresh from college. A bunch were Academy drop outs. All around her age.

Suddenly the thought struck her that, other than those things, all she knew about these people was a skill that made them valuable and their first name. That was it. Hell, she didn't even know everyone's name. She didn't even know everyone. Manick was the only one who did She spent most of her time with Manick. She knew it was mostly because he liked looking at her but she had only gotten his attention because f her short military background and medical experience.

Andy had been there since the beginning. He was up in the ranks of his experience and Manick's trust. His computer genius didn't hurt him either.

Andy was an enigma. She liked him most of the time. He was fun, good-looking, and laid back. That was as long as Manick wasn't around or work was needed to be done. Manick made him quiet and shy, masking the sturdy confidence she saw from him so often. He was an adrenaline junky who got off on stupid stunts and had a tendency of drinking too much real alcohol some nights. There were days she hated him and days she found herself wishing circumstances were different and something might happen.

Reggie sighed. She wasn't really all that sure how she endedup on that ship orbiting Pluto and running from the authorities. Manick hunted down Academy drop-outs- or at least he did before he had people to do it for him- just like he found her one bad night and convinced her to join him. She was worn out, upset, and out of credit, she needed a break and he seemed to have given her one.

She turned again, eyes glazed over as she looked down at the floor. It had been a long day. There were two more hours before Manick would demand they move. Andy would squirm under Manick's cocky bastard-ness and either say it's done or say that he needed more time.

Reggie could have cared less. She wanted sleep and she wanted to be home, but for that moment her mind was so far past thought, she couldn't give a damn about anything. Not Manick. Not the war. Not even Amen.

She stopped, looking u to see that her feet had taken her back to her room. Reggie sighed, stepped inside and let the door close behind her.

/-/-/-/

"_The Sklig N'Tar haven't been much direct help for us. They still exist months later. And that's enough for now. _

"_They gave us some information in exchange for some supplies. We don't have much, but obviously more than them. Reports say they're young. We don't know names- obviously- so we don't know much about them, but they've been good on their word so far. _

"_Amen's ships are re-building. That's why the attacks have lessened. Rumors say- at least those that reached out ears- that their fleet will soon be one to match that of the Alliance…"_

/-/-/-/

/- _**Unknown Time**_

Quiet.

He was surrounded by it. An empty void, soundless all but for his labored breath and the echoing of footsteps. His eyes saw little. It was dark. He stared at the dark floor, one eye nearly swollen shut.

"Umph!"

The slapping of flesh on flesh and the sudden cry of pain sounded throughout the room, shattering the stillness with the horrid soundsof torture.

"Anything else you wish to share?"

He forced in air through bloodied lips. Slowly he worked soar muscles, his one good eye finding his tormenter's face. He had first seen the face, confident that nothing could happen to him. The face was hard, but not seemingly cruel, simply tired and humorless. He soon found how wrong he was with his assumption.

His tongue rolled over his cracked, dried lips, the sting of iron beratinghis senses. "No," he forced past a parchedthroat. It hurt to speak. Physically, true, but more emotionally. He had spoken. He couldn't stop himself. He had said far too much.

The tormenter gave a harsh glower, turned on his heels and left. The door opened wide, light flooded in before suddenly disappearing. The battered man went limp, puffing out a last few breaths before passing out.

In the hall, the tormentor shook his hand, then rubbed at the raw flash on his fist.

He looked up as soon as he entered the next room. The tormentor gave a stiff nod up at the looming figure.

"He told me everything, sir."

"Good. Very good. Get to work then."

The tormentor took a deep breath. "Yes, sir!"

"Dismissed."

He nodded again, looking up at the man as he said, "Thank-you, Mr. President." The tormentor turned and marched away, leaning President Amen standing on the ledge above the workstation.

Amen ran a hand through thick layers of tan gray hair, saying softly, "War does horrible things to these young lads. Terrible. Absolutely terrible." Making a clicking noise with his tongue, he shook his head remorsefully and paced the length of the ledge and out the door, merging from the bright whiteness of the workroom into the fine wooden halls of the Federation Consulate.

/-/-/-/

/- _**August, Three Months Later**_

The day was early, or at least it was for the planet below them.

Admiral Hill stood on the torn apart bridge of the ship _Aristotle_. She was the flagship of the delta fleet- a small taskforce of some of the best men and women they had. Their jobs- infiltration and surprise attacks- made the delta fleet the first of many to receive upgraded weapons and shields.

Hill didn't need to be there for he trusted the officers and engineers working on the Martian space dock, but he wanted to see it. He wanted to be there, to put a physical image to the monotonous reports he had been reading.

The bridge was a mess. He didn't quite understand how considering no real work was being done in there. Hill just sighed, scanning the area. When his eyes reached the viewscreen they were met, not with the image of the Martian shipyard, but with a schematic of the _Aristotle_. Sections glowing in red were damaged from battle that needed repair- these areas were few and currently being worked on. Yellow areas were what needed to be rebuilt and upgraded.

"Now how long have you been Captain of the _Aristotle_?"

"Oh, ten years now, sir."

Hill glanced over his shoulder to see Amen walking with the Captain, the President nodding slowly. Hill shook his head, the gesture privately meant for himself. His President appeared everywhere around him; he felt like he was being followed.

His visit had originally been intended as an unofficial excursion, well that was before Amen found out and decided to come with him. He did that a lot. Hill had once spoken with Ken Smith about that. Ken hadn't complained- Hill hadn't known him to do that for years- but he said that he wasn't allowed to do much or sign off on much without Amen's approval.

Amen had a plan, a plan to win. Win the war, yes, but many other things. And that plan made him obsessed. He told no one what it was, Hill's knowledge, and therefore felt the need to be in control of everything around.

Hill sighed as he looked back at Amen and the Captain. He supposed he should go and talk with them, but he didn't want to. Men glanced up and caught his eyes. The President smirked and beckoned him over.

/-/-/-/

/- _**Around The Same Time**_

Byron tapped his stylus on the conference table. His other hand reached up to scratch his nose as he stared down at the PADD in front of him.

The conference room door slid open, immediately drawing his attention to the three entering. Commander LaForge and Commander Data were at the head, leading Dr. Crusher into the room. Dr. Crusher greeted him with a smile as she sat down beside him while the other two ignored him, absorbed in their own conversation as they walked over to the other side of the table.

Byron smiled back at the doctor before turning his attention back to the words on the PADD before him. His tapping became more random as his eyes became more and more glazed. He sighed and looked away, dropping his stylus onto the table as he did so.

"I hate giving briefings too."

He looked quickly at Crusher before processing what she said. He huffed out a short laugh as he nodded. "Yeah…" he left his thought handing in the air, deciding not to approach the territory his mind had started to wander into. Instead he looked back again, glancing at the far door and then to the other, as he waited for the Admiral to return.

Silence eventually fell over Geordie and Data. Byron glanced up at them before returning his gaze to the PADD before him. He picked up his stylus, the awkward beats filling the void. Crusher shifted in her seat, resisting the urge to put her hand out to halt the beats. Data sat stoically, ignoring the tuneless noise easily. Geordie just sighed and leaned back into his chair.

"Sorry I'm late," filtered into the room just after the sound of the doors swooshing open. Everyone rose immediately, Riker walking around the table and taking his usual seat, gesturing for the rest to sit as well. "What have we got?"

Byron cleared his throat. "Intelligence has gotten back to us that the Federation has some… new advancements to the shields and weapons."

"New advancements?" the admiral question, cocking an eyebrow as he leaned back in his chair.

"Yes, sir." Licking his lips, he sucked in a deep breath and continued, "The Sklig Ntsar sent us this schematic for improved shields." He slid the PADD towards LaForge. He looked down, eyes scanning the image, eyebrow raising.

"These are nearly identical to our own."

"You sure?" Riker questioned, reaching out to see it himself. Data glanced at it and handed it over to the admiral.

"Yes, sir. Definitely."

Byron gave Riker a moment before continuing, "If you look to the next part, they also sent us the Federation's schematics for new weaponry. They're our transphasic torpedoes and new phaser designs."

Riker toyed with the PADD, eyes scanning over the image before passing it over to Data who then handed it to Geordie. "Definitely ours, sir."

Riker nodded and turned his sight back onto Byron. "How did they get this?"

Byron shook his head. "I don't know. My only guess: someone told them. A traitor."

"Who would have been able to give such details."

"A good engineer that worked on the advancements to his own ship," Geordie offered up. "They're similar enough to the original design to remember but complex enough not to be thought of easily."

Byron nodded. "Any good tactical officer with enough engineering knowledge could potentially offer up this information."

Riker nodded somberly, sighing. "Are we sure about all this? Can we trust the source?"

"It's definitely from the Sklig Ntsar. The only way they could have gotten this was from something they dug up and that wouldn't have been from our computers, sir. They got it from a Federation source." Byron paused and then said, "Sketchy reporters confirm that there have been several shipyards working on repairing relatively undamaged ships. Those could be the ones receiving the advancements."

Again, Riker was somberas he looked down at his hands. He rubbed his eye, his hand continuing over his face before flattening down his beard. "Does everyone know this already?"

"Yes, sir. All the Captains of the fleet should be being briefed right now."

"Good. Anything else?"

"No, sir."

Riker glanced over at the rest of his senior staff, still feeling as if so many others were missing, before he pushed his body from the chair. "Dismissed then."

/-/-/-/

"_There were seventeen attacks in the Betazed region in two months. Most of them pushed back the border or drove small hole in the defenses. Some seemed to accomplish nothing. In war, that's common._

"_Over the next four months, twenty-three attacks on seemingly random outposts and patrol ships occurred. We knew it was these holes in our defenses that allowed them to break through. We never put together until it was too late just what their strategy was. _

"_War is war. The object of war is to over power and crush your enemy. How to accomplish that: strategically hit the correct areas- outposts, planets, shipyards, supply lines- to push through their lines and conquer. The Federation wasn't playing by those rules- or at least we thought they weren't. They played us, not the game or war… They broke through our lines and hit just the right areas to leave us scurrying away from their real target. _

"_See, we were so absorbed in the object of war that we forgot that there are good ways of sucker punching and discouraging the opponent. It was something we were not expecting. Something that truly caught us by surprise. Something that terrified all of us…"_

/-/-/-/

/- _**A Week Later**_

He blinked slowly, trying to keep his eyes opened. He was beyond tired. Sleep was a near impossibility. He got an hour or two every time he walked in his room. Usually he was woken by a communiqué of some kind.

Riker shifted uncomfortably in his chair, growing restless in the awkward seat. He looked to his right, watching as a couple of Ensigns walked down the hall towards him. He straightened, hoping they didn't noticed his haggard face. They nodded at him and he nodded back, but other than that they ignored him.

The computer beeped and sputtered, drawing Riker's attention. The officer behind the desk continued to work indifferently. Riker sighed and glued his eyes back on the floor. He looked back up at the officer- the man's face was buried in his work. Riker cleared his throat- the man turned his head to glance at the far computer. Riker coughed louder- the man still ignored him.

"Excuse me?"

The officer continued to work on something. Just as Riker opened his mouth to speak, the officer looked at him for the first time since he walked in. "Yes, Sir?"

"How much longer?"

The officer half-shrugged. "He should be back soon."

"Should?"

"That's all I know, sir." Riker looked away and the officer gave a sigh before going back to work.

He listened to the clicking of his tongue as he waited. His eyes drooped further. "Will!" Riker snapped his eyes opened, looking over at the source of the voice. Standing, Riker forced a smile as he extended his hand to Admiral Jackson.

"Admiral."

"Call me Tom, Will, please. I hope I didn't keep you waiting long."

"No, sir. Not long."

"Good. Come in."

Riker stepped over the threshold, ignoring the sudden feeling of being immersed into the dull monotony of a military office. It was rather bare and impersonal, greys and other bland colors assaulting the senses.

"You still haven't said why you asked me here, Admiral."

"I haven't?" Jackson gestured to a seat as he walked around his desk; Riker shook his head. "No secret really. You know as well as anyone about the recent attacks in this region."

"Yes, sir," Riker responded with a nod, shifting his feet. "They're random and unpredictable."

"Almost unpredictable. Honestly, the only thing we know is they're quick, unexpected attacks that mostly accomplish nothing. I want to reassign about a forth of the Alpha Fleet and reposition them in the area."

"Sounds like a good idea. May even discourage them."

"That is part of the plan."

Riker nodded. "I'll take a look and see who to move. Anyone in particular, sir? Any number?"

"Yes- you."

"_Enterprise_?"

"Yes, along with about fifty others."

"Very good, sir."

"That won't harm your border patrols too badly, will it?"

"I don't think so, sir."

"Good. That's all, Will."

Riker nodded. "Thank-you, sir."

/-/-/-/

/- _**A Few Days Later**_

"Why does Daddy have to leave all the time?"

Deanna sighed, taking her daughter by the hand as she led her down the street. "Because, honey, he has a job to do."

"To protect us?"

"Yes," Deanna said slowly, gaze slowly falling on the first moon slowly rising over the horizon. "He has to keep the Alliance safe."

Liz nodded, seemingly satisfied that her question had been answered. She looked away, observing silently the passersby, hand rocking slowly to the soft music in the background. Deanna looked off in the distance to where the art museum and history center meet in the center square. She turned, leading Liz down the sidewalk, passing the large fountain Liz enjoyed when she was little. Deanna blinked, forcing her mind away from memories of Liz's childhood.

"Mommy?" the ten-year-old said suddenly. Deanna looked down to see her brow wrinkle in confusion. "Why does the Federation want to hurt us?"

Deanna sighed, clearing her throat as she glanced away. Liz had hit the age where she understood what was going on a while ago, but had never really directed questions to her. Lwaxana often got the difficult ones, sometimes Will. She answered other things. "Well… they… some people in charge think differently than Gamma and the people she works with. They got mad at us when we stopped being a part of the Federation-"

"And started the Alliance?" Liz jumped in. Deanna smiled despite herself and nodded.

"Yes, when we started the Alliance."

"But you shouldn't hurt people just 'cause you're mad at them." Deanna looked down to see Liz making a face, shaking her head as if she were the supreme authority on the topic.

"No," Deanna said, trying her best not to smirk, "that's very true."

"Then why do they?"

Deanna let out a long breath, finding herself shaking her head once again. "Sometimes it just happens."

"Gamma says that violence isn't the Betazoid way."

"And she's very right about that."

Liz cocked her head to the side, looking up at her mother. "Then why does Daddy and other Betazoids fight the Federation?"

Deanna looked down quickly at her daughter. Brown eyes caught blue and Deanna was surprised to see the intense bewilderment in her large orbs. "Because… because sometimes we have to fight to protect ourselves and what we believe. Sometimes… sometimes it's unavoidable."

Liz paused for a fraction of a second before asking, "What does 'unavoidable' mean?"

"It means that we can't stop it from happening."

"Oh…" Liz went quiet. She looked away for a long while. Deanna sighed gratefully and looked back at the street, casually watching the others walking about. She noticed the painter on the corner, the man horribly focused on his object of choice. "Mommy?" Deanna forced her eyes away and down at the little girl still clutching her hand.

"Yes?"

"What if the Federation hurts Daddy? What if they're mad at him a lot more and they hurt him?"

Deanna paused, even her feet halted with shock from the question. Liz stopped as well, turning to look back at her mother. Deanna opened her mouth, her mind grasping for words. "I," she started, but then sighed and shook her head. "I don't know, baby… I just don't know…"

/-/-/-/

/- _**A Few Days Later**_

Will scratched just under his eyes, moving the hand to run over his beard. His nose twitched; he looked back up, then back down, then proceeded to run a hand over his beard once again.

"I call."

Beverly forced back a smirk, running her tongue over her lip instead as she glanced back down at her cards. Her eyes narrowed as she looked up at him. "I think you're bluffing."

"Put your chips down and we'll find out, won't we?"

Data's eyes darted between the two as they bantered back and forth. Having folded early in the game, he had watched as the admiral and doctor raised the pot to a significantly high number before both Commander LaForge and Commander Byron folded as well.

Will cocked an eyebrow at Beverly, his lips pulling back into a smirk. Beverly smiled, satisfied, as she spilled her chips onto the pill.

"What d'ya got?"

Beverly flipped her cards over. "Straight, jack high."

Will's smile grew as Data turned his eyes back onto the admiral. "That all?"

"What do you have, Will?" He smiled broadly and tossed his cards over to her. Beverly picked them up, looked at them, and laughed, tossing them back at him.

"King high, read it and weep, doctor." Beverly was still laughing as Will said that in jest. Geordie and Commander Byron joined in the laughter, Will as well. Data smiled but the humor was lost on him.

"Okay, okay, kids, who wants a food break?"

"I'll help you, Will."

"Thanks."

Will and Beverly stood from the table, Geordie turning in his chair to see the walking over to the replicator. It glowed momentarily before Beverly removed a bowl from it; it glowed again and Will removed a tray of drinks. He sauntered back over to the table, jokingly teasing the group as he gave them each a drink. Beverly shook her head and set the bowl where her pot of money had been a moment ago.

"What is that?"

Will looked up at the tactical office, laughing at the human as he looked inside the bowl with a mixture of trepidation and intrigue. "Old human snack. They're called pretzels."

"Are they any good?" Will just shrugged before grabbing a handful and popping one into his mouth. Byron glanced inside the bowl once more, carefully picking out a single pretzel and examining it closely before he dared taste it. Will smiled and shook his head, catching a similar look in Beverly's eyes.

"How's Captain Ivinch doing? I hear the _Warbird _got shaken up pretty well the other day."

Will nodded, swallowing and looking up at her. "Yeah. I spoke with her the other day when she was reporting in. Um, the _Warbird_'ll be fine. She lost two men though."

"How many does that make this week? Five, six?"

"Seven," Data responded easy, looking over at Byron. "Eight if you were to include the attack on Outpost-773."

Will nodded as Beverly shook her head. "It makes no sense."

"You're telling me," Byron said softly. Will cocked an eyebrow at him and he flushed. "I just mean, I've been working on this… strategy for three months now, ever since it became an issues and… I can't see anything."

Will shrugged. "That's what all you tactical geniuses are telling me."

"I must agree with their assessment, though, Admiral. There is no logic."

"Will, Data. Come on, we're here to play some poker, not discuss the war. Whose in for another round?"

"I'm in," Geordie replied, straightening in his chair.

Byron shrugged and nodded. Will looked to Beverly. She smiled and leaned back in her chair. "I'm in, but you look like you might need a loan, Will." He scowled at her, making her smile widen.

Data ignored all this, as he often did if he wasn't intently observing it, and chose to instead deal the cards.

/-/-/-/

/- _**Around The Same Time**_

"You got any plans for tonight?"

Deanna glanced up at Sal, the Vigolain's attention focused intently on the work before her. Deanna nodded as she looked back down at the PADD in hand. "My mother and I are taking the kids to the theatre."

Sal glanced up from the screen at Deanna. The Betazoid looked up as well, but Sal's eyes had already returned to her work. "They have that new band playing tonight, right? The Z'di or something?"

"The Zin'do. And yes. Liz likes their music and my mother seems to be intrigued by it." Sal nodded, still working. It was something of a habit between them. Sal had never been one for small talk as she worked just months before. She had been serious and intent on working. But Deanna liked to talk- she said it helped her focus- and Sal had grown accustom over the years to talking with her as they worked. She rarely stopped working but always knew what they were talking about. "And you? Got anything planned?"

Sal shook her head, brushing a stand of dark hair behind her ear. "Just another long night of research and work."

"You really need to take a break, Sal. Staring at this forever won't solve it." For the first time since they had sat down five hours earlier, Sal's hands stilled over the keys as she dragged her eyes off the words. Deanna smirked when she saw Sal's face of mockindignation. "Take a break. Relax. Go have some fun." Sal smiled, but said nothing, instead returning her attention to the data. "Maybe you should come to the concert with us."

"I wouldn't want to impose."

"Nonsense." Deanna looked up at Sal, wondering as she sometimes did if Sal was actually paying her any attention, "You need to get out of the office."

Sal sighed and, knowing the conversation would not likely end soon, she relented. "I'll think about it."

Deanna smiled, tossing long curls over her shoulder as she returned her attention to the words on the PADD. "So what do you think-"

Sal looked up when Deanna cut her words off. She tilted her head in confusion, noticing with concern Deanna's look of horror. "Deanna?" Just as the word passed her lips, the lights flickered, being replaced with red and sirens erupted in the halls. "What the hell-?"

/-/-/-/

/- _**A Few Days Later**_

Riker rushed from the turbolift, twisting his body to escape the room before the doors had a chance to open fully. Red lights flashed on the walls, forgotten in the rush and madness. Riker ignored the sirens whining in his ears as he shouted, "Data!"

Standing in the center of the bridge, the android turned and looked at the Admiral. "There are a reported fifty-seven Federation ships attacking the Betazed systems," he said without having to hear the question, "We have set course and will arrive within the next three minutes."

"Fifty-seven?" Riker nearly choked on the word. It wasn't the one he wanted to say. His mind was still focused on the word Betazed. "How did they get here? Better question, how many Alliance ships are coming?"

Riker had been taking several long strides, quickly approaching Data as he spoke. He stopped before his chair, deciding better than to sit down. Looking to Data, the android responded, "Twenty-one were on immediate patrol around the planet and have already responded. Another eighteen are in the immediate vicinity with us and will arrive now. Thirty-four more have been ordered to come. Twenty-two more are on standby if reinforcements are needed."

Riker nodded, forcing his attention to turn to the viewscreen rather than continuing to stare blankly at his first officer. Moments later, the stars returned to the their normal appearance and there, before his ship, was the beauty called Betazed. He watched it, seemingly still against the starry background. Deanna was down there, in danger. His children. He had asked them to stay there to protect them, now…

The ship veered and with it the image moved. Riker's eyes never left the point on the screen he had found earlier, only now they saw the devastation that had already taken place. "Mr. Byron… charge phasers…"

/-/-/

/- _**The Same Time**_

She shut her eyes tight, scrunching her face hard in response to the noise. Never before had she sat, huddled around others, as she listened to the sounds of destruction above her. Never before had she felt the fear and anger and confusion that she sensed coursing through the minds and hearts of everyone around her.

Lwaxana opened her eyes cautiously to look around at her colleges. She noticed Pell sitting with her back against the far wall, her knees up against her chest. She held a calm demeanor, her face not appearing too frantic, but Lwaxana could feel far beneath that barrier. The Trill caught her eye and gave a quick smile. Lwaxana knew it was forced.

Her eyes eventually trailed away, scanning over the many heads. T'Pel, Ganit, and Moricz were standing in the opposite corner. She ignored the other two, resting her focus on Moricz. The Vigolian had grown much in the past years. She had had her doubts about both he and his planet but, in the end, they had proven themselves worthy. She was proud of him, she had even come to like the zealous young man. He turned and caught her gaze. He didn't try to hid his fear nor cover it by flashing a smile. He stared her dead on and let her see his soul, raw and terrified. She had nothing to offer him but the smallest of nods.

Her eyes turned away, glancing over the others once again. The room shook and she shut her eyes. It was something she had done since she was little. It didn't really work but, sometimes, when emotions were loud and painful, if she closed her eyes, they might be dulled ever so slightly. Very slightly.

She opened her eyes, not having to look to know who was sitting in the corner meters beside her. She could feel his emotions, crashing on her wave after wave. She stood and took a few careful steps towards him before sitting down and drawing her legs to her chest.

Tayd let out a shaky breath as he looked over at her. She just took his hand and waited.

/-/-/-/

/- _**Hours Later**_

Cities on fire. Burning. Flames erupting all around. Ash and shoot covering the ground. The smell of carnage and charred building in the air.

He could feel it. Taste it. Smell it. And he could almost see it. Standing in the center, Riker stared out at Betazed, ears still ringing with the red alert sirens even as they now watched over the viewscreen as the Federation ships retreated.

"Captain?"

"Hmm?" Riker pulled his eyes from the screen, scanning over the area to find the owner of the voice.

"I said, should we return to our original position?"

Riker's eyes returned to the screen. He stared for a while, Data's words slowed losing meaning to him.

Somewhere in his mind, Will understood that he had nodded. He felt his head move, but the feeling was vague as his body felt numb. He didn't register the movement of those around him, nor the movement of the ship. All he was able to perceive was the planet fading before his eyes, the stars warping and stretching around his ship. Riker closed his eyes and sighed, trying to block out the _images_ bombarding his sense.

/-/-/-/

"_That day at Betazed our worst fears were confirmed… Amen's fleet had advanced itself. No longer were they weak and inferior to our own ships, but powerful and equally matched. We decimated each other that night in Betazoid space. Slaughter… The Klingons don't stand a chance against either fleet- Mikolian nor Federation…_

"_Betazed… the fight, was a hard blow to the Alliance. They didn't take her, only the gods know what would have happened if they had, but they had crushed us nevertheless. But only a week later we suffered another jarring blow… _

"_As I said before, the Changelings were the beginning of a domino effect. Maybe they had nothing to do with anything. Really they didn't. But they were the first thing to happen… and then the last…_

"_The attack on Betazed was swift and unexpected. Minimal defenses were around her- we had placed everything we had protecting the border and the places where the Federation wanted us. We didn't think and we got burned badly… _

"_But we recovered, remarkably so. We stopped then, fought them back. They never even held Betazed for any length of time. It was a shock, yes, and I think that's why we never felt the next blow…"_

/-/-/-/

/- _**Late November, Two Months Later**_

It was a slow day, as many were for him. Ensign Mz'rah scratched his nose as he strolled down the hall. He was far from early. In fact, he was nearly twenty minutes early, but he didn't think the others would mind.

Mechanical grey eyes adjusted on command to the dimmed lights. It was early in the morning and the lights hadn't yet been undimmed. That didn't bother him though for, as a Vigolian, he could control how much light he saw.

Mz'rah past by a row of windows, the dim light shinning against his blue scales, giving them an eerie glow. He glanced at his reflection, frowningat the piece of hair sticking up in the back. Most Vigolians grew theirs out, as he normally did, but recently he had it cut short, his black and blue locks now shinning almost completely blue. He ran his hand over the spot, trying to smooth it down. After a moment, he gave up and purposely messed it up.

Continuing on his way, Mz'rah yawned. Early morning shifts weren't bad, but they sure were boring as hell. Nothing ever seemed to happen between four and ten. Not much more happened from one to four either. Well, all but the attack on Betazed, but that was more that two weeks before and already things had returned to a boring lull.

He didn't hate his job- well, he did but he understood he was new to security and a little young to be placed directly on a starship. But there was a war on and nothing happening on Betazed in a high security detention level. Not much at all.

Changeling- that was the only interesting thing about this job. Half of them remained in one cell while the rest were across form it. They didn't need to eat, so he didn't worry about that. No visitors. They didn't say nor do much. Usually they just stayed like a large puddle of goo. At least that's what his co-worker said.

Lieutenant Dixon always worked from one to ten; he was there before Mz'rah got there. Vigolians- at least that's what Mz'rah had figured out- could not see completely through forceshields. He'd asked others before- Dixon was one- if they could see it. Dixon had said he could only if someone touched it. Mz'rah, however, could always see it. It just made the job harder because he had trouble seeing what was going on inside the cells. But, it he adjusted his eyes to block out most of the light, he could just see inside, but it bothered his eyes so he didn't do it too often.

Mz'rah turned the corner, the right door just on his left. He was ten minutes early but Dixon wouldn't mind. Entering his code, the door slid open. On instinct, his eyes flew over to examine the right cell. He could see the forceshield active and glimmering. He looked to the left. It too was on.

"Lieutenant, I know I'm-" Mz'rah paused after taking a few steps in. Dixon wasn't seated, half-asleep in his chair and the other Ensign wasn't in sight either. Panicked, he looked desperately around, searching for any sign of Dixon or the other man.

Then he found it. Half a leg shown behind the console. He stepped forward slowly. Then he froze. Dixon's lean body was tangled, his head laying at an odd angle. Just meters away he noticed another man on the ground.

Sucking in a deep breath, trying to calm his nerves and steady his mind, Mz'rah walked over to the cell. He adjusted his eyes again, only this time to take in less light. He looked into the cell, just barely seeing past the forceshield.

There was nothing in there.

Mz'rah twisted quickly, frantically searching for what he knew was longgone.

It would not be long before Head Quarters was appraised of the situation. It would however be hours before someone knew what had happened. Neither guard would survive. None of the Changelings would ever be found…

/-/-/-/

/- _**Two Days Before Christmas**_

Will didn't want to believe that Picard was dead. He couldn't. Somewhere, hidden deep in his subconscious, he still had hope that Picard had managed to escape, hopefully evading capture and surviving somewhere. He couldn't imagine how he could still be alive. He didn't think Picard would be in Amen's hands- why would he pronounce him dead?- so that left a single possibility remaining…

And yet, despite that fact, Will still stood before the granite marker holding out hopes that his Captain would return. But, in an even darker creviceof his mind, he knew that would never happen. That Jean-Luc Picard was a golden piece of history. His death was one of the many pebbles that had started the avalanche that crushed what once was the peaceful Federation.

Sometimes Will let himself think about the 'what ifs?'. Only sometimes. He didn't ponder long, but in the time he allowed himself, he wondered if Picard hadn't been imprisoned that day, would they have gone to war? Would the Federation have been split? Where would Amen be now?

He always drew himself back to reality when he came to that thought. Had the split not happened, he would reason with himself, and the war not taken place, Amen would be in charge of so many resources and a whole Federation. Will often wondered if they would have realized what he was in time.

Will's thoughts ceased long after he had left the marker. He looked up suddenly, dazed and slightly lost. Once again, he looked about himself. He was there, not to mourn Picard, but to honor all those who died on Betazed last month. All the Betazoids and other Alliance citizens and officers who died.

Riker had scoffed at the monument- he couldn't understand why in the mists of war. He hadn't said anything aloud, but people knew his opinion. Lwaxana had scolded him. Betazoids accepted death, however they didn't know how to deal with death in battle.

Riker looked up at the top of the hill where several people had begun to congregate. He breathed in, then exhaled, rubbing his nose as he watched the glowing lights hovering against the darkening sky. It was beautiful in a peculiar way. He stood mesmerized for a short while longer before he turned and walked towards the lights.

/-/-

All right, you're lucky that my friend's letting borrow their computer because I'm heading off to Gettyburg without a computer for another week. I promise I'll give you extra when I return.

Hugs, JD


	26. Year 10: 2381

_Author's Note: _Well I promised extra, so here's the first two parts of Year 10. Enjoy!

/-/-

**Year Ten: 2381**

"Hok nay! Hok nay!" All activity within the room stopped, the attention falling onto the young man who had just rushed into the room. He gasped for breath, gesturing wildly at the door. "Hok nay!"

"Dosh va?"

"Gonyo," he said quickly, eyes bright blue eyes falling onto his fellow alien who had been the only one to stand up. "Fer te mob jeb Her Qui!"

"Wha lay?"

The noise stopped immediately when another man's voice was heard. The first man bowed his head slightly, gesturing to something behind him. The man glanced behind him, before looking back for an explanation.

"Day bon ya, cosh nein ao, Her Qui"

The young man named Her Qui nodded, walking around the others to get a closer look. He crouched down, reaching out a hand. "Umon. Umons?"

The first man nodded, the entire room moving closer to look as well. Her Qui sighed, nodding again. "Helihn con pah, Pelnar. Nash no vae."

"Yahn teth, Her Qui."

"Un Kelnor! Non forth dea."

"Yahn teth, Her Qui."

Her Qui nodded, looking back down as Kelnor ran from the room. His hand reached out, pulling the bundle towards him. "Yarfleet."

/-/-/-/

/- _**Hours Later**_

His head spun; the blood in his veins pounding hard his head. A groan escaped his lips.

"_What's wrong?"_

"_I don't know, sir."_

"_Will? What's going on?"_

"_Don't know. We've been caught in some kind of-"_

He groaned again, words echoing in his ears, blending reality with the imagined.

"_Looks at this planet."_

"_It's gorgeous."_

"_What's that?"_

"_Don't know. Should we get closer?"_

"_I don't know. Let's just- Ensign, I said not to get closer."_

"_It wasn't me, sir!"_

He tried to move and open his eyes but his body felt like lead, far too heavy to move. He tried to lift his arm, his head. He couldn't.

"Yon can ya! Pek no-"

"Cnah shet le! Ke nor leth der Yarfleet!" A small moan escaped him, as he heard the words in his mind. He couldn't understand them like he could the others.

"_Ensign!"_

"_It's like the power's just being drained."_

"_Reverse thrusters."_

"_I'm trying, sir."_

"_Ensign-!"_

"_I can't!"_

He winced, blinking slowly. Two voices in the distance started to wake him. His mouth cracked open, intending on asking them to be quiet, but no sound escaped him.

"No yinsh far. No yinsh der Yarfleet! No achin carind."

"Umons! Yarfleet! Cun ya pell tosh!"

"Donon kel tar shin ya!"

He moaned again, opening his eyes to see only a dull light and rock-like ceiling. "Ken ya."

Two figures appeared in his sight, one leaning over him with some kind of instrument, the other hanging back. The one with the instrument nodded at the other, walking away. The other man stepped closer. He was younger, probably in his early twenties.

Riker's eyes skimmed over the man, noticing first the slightly raised skin under his bright blue eyes, observing the tear-shaped indents for a moment before noticingthat his skin was darker and his brown hair bleached from time in the sun.

"Ken taro nah?"

The man just stared up at him for a moment. He shook his head, grunting as he pushed his body into a sitting position, the young alien helping him.

"Ken taro nah?"

"I can't understand you."

The man nodded. "Tel. Tel mar ka."

He shook his head. "No. I can't understand." He looked down at himself, surprised that he was not wearing his uniform, but instead white robes similar to what the alien was wearing.

"Dayor nash cla."

He looked over at the alien. "My clothes, where are they? My clothes," he said, tugging on the robes he was wearing.

The alien nodded, turning away. He came back a moment later, carrying the dark material in his hands. "Ten."

"Thank-you." The man sighed, unfolding the clothes on his lap. He smirked as he saw that his communicator was still there.

"Der Yarfleet?"

The man looked over at him. "Starfleet? You know about Starfleet?"

"Der Fedation, Umon."

His brows creased, watching the alien for a moment. Placing the device on his chest, he pointed to it, saying, "This should help us to understand each other."

"Her Gemi Qui."

He sighed, shaking his head. "It's not working."

"My name." Shocked, he looked back at the alien. "Her Gemi Qui is my name."

"Works better than I thought," he muttered. "My name is Captain William Riker."

"Captain? That is appropriate… that I call you." Riker nodded. "You may call me Her Qui."

Riker nodded at the alien, noticing the faint, almost Australian accent in his voice. "Her Qui? Then may I ask where I am?"

"You are in a medical facility. Your ship crashed not far from here."

"The others? Are they-"

"They are all well. As you can see for yourself," Her Qui said, gesturing to the other beds to the left of his own. His eyes glanced over them, finding both Dr. Crusher and Ensign Kent unconscious.

"And here is? I mean, what planet is this?"

"We call it Yenyae."

"Yenyae?" Her Qui nodded. "I've never heard of it."

A small chuckle escaped his lips. "No. We… like a more simple life. Yarfleet has not returned since one and half centuries ago."

"You asked them to leave?"

"Yes."

Riker nodded, swinging his legs over the bed. "Then we'll leave as soon as we are able."

"That may not be for a very long time. Your ship was badly damaged; I have some of my engineers working on it, but they believe it will take some time before it will be fixed." Riker's brows creased as he looked up at Her Qui. "As I said, we prefer the simple life. But that does not mean we do not have technology. Please, follow me to your ship."

Riker hesitated, looking back over at his shoulder at where Crusher and Kent were still unconscious. "Do not worry about them. They are in good hands with Pelnor." He looked away from Her Qui, catching a glimpse of a second alien in the corner, watching the exchange with a suspicious eye.

Riker looked back and nodded, then pushed himself off the bed and followed Her Qui out of the room.

He looked around himself, keeping a keen eye from details of the place he was in. As he watched, he noticed the lack of electronic lights, seeing instead that the hallway glowed from torchlight. The farther down the hallway they went, the more it became obvious that they weren't in a building, but in some kind of cavern.

His eyes strayed, wandering around the walls and observing every detail around him. Occasionally they settled on Her Qui's back, resisting the urge to ask him how much farther they were going. He opened his mouth once, but decided against it. After a long moment of silence he thought to ask again but, just as he went to ask, they stepped through a hidden door and into a large, circular room, the walls clearly made naturally from rock.

"It's several hundred kentros from here."

"Kentro?" Riker questioned, following Her Qui to the entrance of the cavern. He peered outside, surprised by the sight of a vast desert before him. Much of the land was barren, but kilometers in the distance, he spotted sand dunes. He looked up to the sky, noticing one sun just over the horizon.

"Your ship is over there." Riker eyes found where Her Qui was pointing. Nearly half a kilometer away, he could make out his shuttle, crashing into the hard ground. "Do you wish to walk down to see it?" Riker looked away, suddenly finding himself looking into Her Qui's bright blue eyes. The Admiral nodded.

It was a tedious hike to the shuttle and Her Qui was not one to slow his pace. It was obvious that he was extremely comfortable in the desert heat, but it was killing Riker. The thin robes allowed his body to breathe, but kept the sun off his skin. Even that, though, didn't keep him from feeling the heat.

"Are you feeling unwell, Admiral?"

"Huh?" He looked up to find Her Qui smiling at him. The alien turned and then tossed him something. Riker looked down at it for a moment in confusion.

"Drink." He took a long swig before offering it to Her Qui, but he declined. Riker looked surprised at him, finding it odd that he seemed perfectly fine the in heat. Looking around, he noticed that all of his people seemed fine. But then, living in those conditions their entire lives, it shouldn't surprise him that they had adapted to their surroundings.

Riker took another long swig of water, intrigued by the taste, when he heard Her Qui speaking with one of the engineers. "Junit, cun greg'a t'gn? Vest'i dun'mar, Adm'ral."

The alien nodded, rubbing his hands together as the two of them walked away from the damaged shuttlecraft and approached Riker. "Adm'ral?"

"Yes?"

"I assume you wish a report on the damage to your ship?"

"Yeah. How bad is it?"

/-/-/-/

/- _**Hours Later**_

Riker whipped the beads of sweat from his face and neck. A breathed a sigh of relief as he stepped past the hidden door and strolled into the cool hall.

Her Qui cocked his head to the side, gesturing to Riker to follow him. They turned into another large room, much like the entrance. He looked around, pleased to see both Doctor. Crusher and Ensign Kent sitting among the Yenyarians.

"Admiral."

Riker looked down at Crusher and flashed her a smile, before joining them around a small fire. "Glad to see that you're both awake. How are you feeling?"

"We're both okay, Will."

He nodded, glancing at Her Qui before sitting besides them. "What are we sitting here for?"

"It is midday meal, Admiral. We welcome you to join us to eat."

"Thank-you."

Ensign Kent nodded his thanks as he took the rough leaf holding the darkened food. He sighed as he stared down at it, slowly taking a small piece in his hand. "This is pretty good. What is it?"

Kelnor smirked at him from across the room. He looked over at Her Qui, seeing the young man smiling at the Ensign. "Ab'u'skign."

"Aboosken?"

Her Qui looked over the Starfleet officers. "It means sandcat."

Kent swallowed hard on the food. "It's meat?"

"Don't tell me you're a vegetarian, Kent," Riker chuckled, chewing slowly on some of the meat.

"My people don't kill animals to eat them."

The Yenyarians chuckled quietly, continuing to eat their food. Riker and Crusher shook their heads, staying quiet. "I'd forgotten that, Kent. I'm sorry."

"You're not Umon?"

"What?" Kent asked as he looked up at Kelnor.

"You're not one of them?"

"No, I'm a Eanus."

"I apologize. We don't have any other food besides this. I could try to find-"

"No, that's… that's quite alright. I can… just eat some of this."

"That's the sport, Kent," Riker teased. "Um, Her Qui, I… I just want to thank you for everything you've done for us." The man just nodded, saying nothing as he went back to eating.

The room was filled with idle chit chat after that, conversations finishing to be followed by long pauses and eating.

Kent took his time eating, trying to focus on others' voices rather than what he was consuming. He chewed quietly, listening to the _conversations_ around him, before joining in. After a while- when most had already finished their meals- Kent looked down at the leaf-like plate he was holding, still half filled with chunks of white meat. Kent forced back a scowl and set the food down. Looking back to the Yenyarians on his left, he saw that they had noticed the interaction. They, however, said nothing and returned to their previous _conversation_.

Time passed slowly again as Kent enjoyed sharing stories with his dinner companions. Around twenty minutes after dinner, though, Kent felt a tap on his shoulder and looked up to see Admiral Riker looming over him. "Hey, you wanna join us over here?"

The Ensign nodded at the Admiral, excusing himself from the group. Steering carefully around the young children- of which, he was surprised to find so many- and the fire pit, he made his way over to where Admiral Riker and Dr. Crusher were standing. Riker glanced over Kent's shoulder before leading them into the hallway.

"Her Qui- he seems to be the leader of these people- took me to inspect the shuttle."

"How bad is it?"

Riker looked to Crusher, before looking to Kent who had voiced the question. He shook his head. "It's pretty bad. The comm. unit seems to be fine, but I can't get a thing on it. The warp engines are fine, but impulse and thrusters are completely shot. The haul looks to be in pretty good shape," Riker sighed, giving the two a half-shrug, "It just needs to be patched in a few places. Other than that, she's not too bad off."

"Other than that?" Kent asked, his voice sarcastic and his brows raised.

"Yes, other than that." Riker paused, collecting his thoughts before starting again, "I spoke with one of Her Qui's engineers. He said they were pretty confident they could repair everything. They, of course, invite us to accompany them when they return tomorrow to help with the repairs."

Kent nodded, the engineer turning away from his Admiral. "Kent, seriously, it doesn't look too bad."

"Yeah. You tell that to Commander LaForge when we get back."

Riker smirked, Crusher looking between the two, her face indifferent. Slowly, her eyes crinkled and her lips pursed before a resoundingguffaw pulled over her lips. She shook slightly, chuckling louder before she eventually took a breath, calming herself. Kent looked at her, his face bordering on insubordination with his indignant glare.

"Okay, that's all I got. Anything here that you wanted to report?" Riker looked to Kent first; he merely shook his head. Then his eyes feel on Crusher. She shrugged. "What does," Riker mimicked her, "that mean?"

"I don't know. They've been very gracious to us, to the point of repairing our shuttle for us. I'm just… I don't know."

"Just waiting for the other shoe to drop?"

Crusher shrugged, then nodded. "Yeah, I guess."

"Well, to be honest, I'm expecting it to be sometime soon. But, for now, I'd like to gain their trust. We're going to be here for a while, we might as well get to know them. Come on."

/-/-/-/

/- _**The Next Morning**_

He grimaced, groaning and rolling onto his side. His mind started to pull itself from a foggy haze. He breathed in deeply, coughing suddenly. His eyes snapped opened to find himself laying on a hard surface, sand surrounding him. He coughed again, slowly sliding his stiff body into a sitting position. He rubbed his hands against his legs, then rubbed his face, trying to focus his tired eyes.

When they finally did, he looked around. Torches were mounted on the wall, however only the two near the exit were lit, softlyilluminating the room. But, despite the lights, the room was still mostly dark. He could, however, see the forms of several sleeping bodies. He looked to the back of the room where he knew Dr. Crusher and Ensign Kent were sleeping.

In the distance he heard a low whining noise in the distance. He looked out the doorway, trying to see where the noise might be coming from. Glancing about himself again, he stood carefully as to not make a sound. He maneuvered around the others, making his way out of the room.

One would not know it, standing in the sleeping chamber, but the hallway was flooded with light. He shielded his eyes a moment before he continued his search. He strolled awkwardly through the halls, digging through his mind to recall the path he was taking.

Will scratched his neck as he looked left then right, pondering his decision. The low wailing sounded again and he chose the right, even though it did not sound more or less clear from either way.

As he walked down the corridor, he looked down, soon become intrigued by the thin material hugging his legs. He had never before worn such a thing, but he found it amazingly comfortable, even cool in the heat.

Will looked up after a short time of wandering, amazed to find himself standing in the main chamber of the caverns. It was void of anyone, and void of any sign of whatever had been making that noise.

He stepped close to the entrance. He blinked quickly, looking out at the bright light. Three suns were handing over the horizon, as if suspended by some invisible force. He watched for a time, entranced by the spectacular colors created. It was not purely hues of reds and yellows with some purple in the mix as was true on Earth. Nor was it an array of blues and oranges as on Betazed. Instead the pale orange sky mixed delicately with bright red, pinks and yellows forming in the wake, and somehow purples and greens added themselves to the blending of colors.

It had been several years since Will had stopped simply to watch something so natural and pure. So spectacular.

"The sunsets are beautiful this time of year. They become difficult to see in the winter." The voice startled Will, making him jump slightly and snap to attention. He turned his head, hearing the footsteps approaching him. Gemi Qui stopped before the entrance beside him, eyes fixed on the display.

"What was that sound earlier? Sounded like a horn or something."

The man nodded slowly. "Nothing to be concerned by."

"What was it?"

"To alert us that the suns were beginning to set."

Will smirked. "You mean it was your wake up alarm?" Gemi looked at him, cocking an eyebrow at the unfamiliar term. "Never mind." His eyes returned to the sky, watching almost wistfully as darkness befell the planet. A thought dawned on him, curiosity washing away his heartache. He glanced over his shoulder at the torches mounted on the wall, then back to Gemi, the Yenyarian watching him with an intrigued expression. "For a culture who exists almost purely during the night, you must have developed more efficient means of lighting your cities than torches?"

"We have. But, like most technology, it will not work within these caverns. Hand held lights are used for traveling away from here."

"I didn't see any when we went to the ship yesterday."

Gemi looked out to the horizon, pointing to the sun nearly gone from sight. "Do you see that star? It rises once again around midday meal. It is the farthest and doesn't create as much heat. When it begins to rise, handheld lights are not necessary."

Will nodded, eyes searching the vast desert before them. He looked down, finding his crashed shuttle about half a kilometer away. "We shall return to your ship after morning meal."

"You guys don't have to do all this-"

"We have tools we can use- us using them is far more efficient than teaching the three of you."

"True, but-"

"There is no reason to turn away our help, Admiral. We will help you to leave as soon as possible."

Riker nodded. "I almost get the feeling that you want us gone."

"Hardly, Adm'ral. In the short time we have been conversing, I find you to be a most interesting person. The problem simply is that you ought to leave before trouble befalls you."

"That sounds an awful lot like a threat."

Her Qui turned his eyes towards Riker; the Human was startled by their brightness. His face, which had remained somber throughout their conversation, suddenly broke into a smile. "It is not you they will wish to harm, Adm'ral."

"Who would want to hurt you?"

"Many people." Her Qui looked away, ending the conversation there.

Riker paused for a moment, his curiosity desperately wishing to pry. His mind debated, torn between diplomacy and concern for his people, he finally asked, "Why?"

Another long moment passed as Her Qui remained silent, gazing blankly out at the second sun passing over the horizon and fading from sight. "Because… because my father seeks the throne."

"The throne?" Even to his own ears, Riker knew he sounded too _shocked_. Her Qui first looked annoyed at him, then amused.

"You seem shocked to find that we have a government."

"No I- I didn't mean it like that."

"I know." Her Qui looked away.

"You have a monarchy?"

Her Qui looked at him, nodding his head. "I suppose you could still call it that."

"Sorry?"

Her Qui sighed. "My father was ruler of this world eighteen cycles ago. He was ousted by a rebellious sect… my father has been raising supporters ever since."

"You're fighting back."

"In a matter of speaking. My father refuses to actually engage in physical fighting."

"And he expects to regain his throne… in what way?" Her Qui rose an eyebrow, but said nothing. He merely looked away, eyes once again focused on the sky.

"It grows late. Many will awake before long. Morning meal will nearly be prepared." Her Qui said nothing more, but turned and walked away. Riker watched the Yenyarian retreat into the cavern. He spared one last look at the sky before he too turned and left.

/-/-/-/

/- _**Hours Later**_

"Her Qui, may I ask a question?"

The Yenyarian turned to look at the Alliance Fleet officer, continuing to walk the short stretch back to their shuttle. "Of course, Ensign."

Kent nodded, glancing at Riker before he asked, "When we approached your planet, I was getting… erratic readings. I have no idea what they meant, but right after that, we lost all power and crashed to the surface."

"Yes," Her Qui nodded, "Your… instruments were undoubtedly detecting the magnetic field surrounding our world."

"A magnetic field?" Kent asked skeptically, his brow scrunched so slightly, eyes narrowing in disbelief. "What are you talking about?"

Her Qui sighed, looking to the vast distance of desert soil and sand before his eyes fell back upon the Alliance Fleet officers. "Millennia ago there was… an accident. A catastrophic one. It created an energy field around the planet. Technology on the planet's surface was almost completely rendered useless. Ships in orbit crashed to the surface, their computers no longer functioning. Ships couldn't take off from the surface. Communications outside of the planet was nearly impossible."

"That's why you don't use much technology?"

Her Qui nodded at Riker. "Precisely. Since, the energy field has dissipated- though extremely slightly- and we have learned ways to created technology that is not affected by it. There are also small pockets in the field, however large enough that cities are built inside their perimeter. The technology is far _more abundant_ there than here."

"Then how are we going to get this thing off the ground? She'll never fly."

Her Qui shook his head at Kent, smirking at the man's ignorance. "Pockets don't simply form and stay stationary. They energy moves, constantly."

"But then why build cities in an area that will only be-"

"No," Her Qui interrupted Crusher, shaking his head again, "Those are areas never touched by the energy field. Out here, however, the energy has always been above. It simply moves at a somewhat predictable rate. Your ship will fly, but only if we can repair it within the next four weeks."

"Four weeks?" Kent said, eyes widening. "A team of engineers and proper equipment probably couldn't get this thing running in three weeks. You expect this motley crew with their little tools to get it done in four? You're completely nuts."

"Ensign," Riker warned, eyes only moving from Her Qui for a moment. "You think it can be done?"

The Yenyarian's eyes gazed steadily at Riker, then moved to Kent, then to the shuttle and his people, before returning to Riker. He nodded just once. "Yes, if events permit. Come, we ought get to work. We do not have much time."

Riker sighed, then glanced over at Crusher and Kent. "Well come on, roll up your selves and hop in."

Kent's brow rose at the wording, looking blankly at Crusher. She laughed at him, shaking her head before approaching the shuttle, asking one of the engineers what she could do to help.

Even in the night without any sun beating on their backs, the labor was still difficult and the desert still radiated heat. Crusher passed by without much work, for she had never been skilled with such things, Instead she passed tools when needed, held lights, and brought around water. She kept her attention on Riker and Kent as much as possible, checking to make sure they were drinking. But, other than that, her focus was far more interested in the Yenyarians themselves.

Kent, however, spent much of his time inspecting what the Yenyarians had already done and spoke often with Junit about what to do next. Crusher got the impression from watching the two that Junit only listened because he understood that the ship was not his, but Crusher doubted that he even liked Kent much.

Riker, on the other hand, worked nearly the entire time. Whenever she saw him, he either had a tool in hand and was immersed in some circuitry, or he was hauling the pieces of metal for the hull plating. He never seemed to stop. Crusher had to force him to take a break a few times.

Finally, hours later, Crusher noticed with dismay that a sun had begun to rise over the horizon. It was then that Her Qui announced they would leave soon. The sun continued to rise, Crusher keeping a watchful eye on it and an even more watchful one on her two men. Nearly two hours later, Her Qui stopped the engineers.

Crusher sighed with relief, not for herself even though she was extremely hot, but for her men who were slowly dehydrating themselves. She turned, frowning at the half a kilometer trip back to the cavern's entrance.

The engineers started off ahead, Kent and Riker trailing behind them. Crusher fell into the back with Her Qui. He walked quickly and with an even pace, but it was one Crusher easily learned to keep up with.

"Her Qui," Crusher asked softly, at some point in the middle of the hike back up the path. She caught his eye, the bright blue easy to see even in the dim light. "Could I ask you something?"

"Of course, Doctor."

"You mentioned an accident happened that created the energy field?"

"Yes."

"What exactly happened?"

Her Qui sighed, slowing his pace to better allow the doctor to walk beside him. "Well, a number of things, really. See, to understand you truly have to… to know about the circumstances of the time."

"Like what?"

Her Qui smirked. "Like… well, for centuries before the disaster, Yenyae had been a member of an alliance. There were three other races, all of whom were advanced. Yenyae was… was far more beautiful, luxurious. Technology and knowledge… ships- she owned a massive fleet used for exploration. We had no colonies or settlements outside of Yenyae, but we explored…"

He paused, searching for something in the distance. When he seemed not to find what he wanted, he instead diverted his eyes to watching the three in front of them. "Many things began to happen in the years before and directly after that accident-"

"Like what?"

"One of the members of the alliance was becoming corrupt. They and another race were constantly feuding. Many things started it. Many things continued it. In the end, I do not know what happened. Yenyae was cut off by then, but I know they fought until then- even to the point where the alliance was all but crumpled. When Yenyae was isolated, I assume it must have broken."

"You still haven't answered the question." Her Qui smiled with her, Crusher laughed softly at the blush on his cheeks.

"You are correct… what happened was simple. We tried too fast to build something we had no right to build."

"Build what?"

He looked away, this time not in search of something, but in abashed shame. "A weapon. One that would solve everything… it hardly did. It destroyed our world… that is what happened. We remain here, fighting ourselves like pathetic Koliac."

"I'm sorry? Koliac?" He looked to her, opening his mouth to speak, but was interrupted. Her Qui looked away from her to find the voice that had called him. Junit, his chief engineer, had fallen back to be nearer to Her Qui. Crusher watched the silent exchange before her ears were bombarded with their true tongue.

"Ke pale. Due pray sin'o far?"

"Nin. Far'in'o lkin g'un."

"G'un? Nin say fo do par'en."

Crusher looked back to Her Qui. He nodded and looked to Junit. Crusher's eyes followed his, resting on the hard lines of his darkened face, the sandy blonde hair that hung in his eyes shielding her from the intensity of his eyes.

"Ke'en due." Her Qui pointed to a place off in the distance. Crusher followed, but could make nothing of the gesture. "Grin due par, var'in? Un… hens Kelnor Ka."

"Yen'sin." Junit nodded his understanding. Then, with a final bow to Her Qui he turned and sprinted shortly to the front of the group. Her Qui watched him leave before turning to her.

"I apologize. Was there anything more you wished to know?"

Crusher shook her head, realizing that she was indeed hearing English being spoken to her. She resisted the urge to ask how they spoke without their language being translated, but then chose not to; she was far more interested in what they had been talking about before. "Why were the two races fighting?"

He looked at her for a long time, suddenly intrigued with the lines of her face and waves in her hair. He stared for a long time, catching her eyes before he answered. "The war was the fault of the Kan'int'sau."

"Kan int sau?"

"I am sorry. I know no other way to translate the name into your language." He paused, sorting the war's sketchy details in his mind, "It was a rather straightforward war- it you can call any that. A radical of the Kan'int'sau killed General Ignoi- the beloved commander of the Tet'int'trel army. The radical was captured and a year later executed. His government declared war. The blood shed in the first months alone was _horrendous_. My own people joined the war, fighting side-by-side with Sarwar Trou- General Ignoi's son."

"That's why you made the weapon?"

"The Tet'int'trel weren't overly militaristic- they spent few resources in creating offensive weapons. It was necessary to help then end the war quickly- for the sake of lives as well as the Alliance."

"Didn't work apparently."

"No," he finished tersely, no longer looking at her. Instead his soft eyes were focused on a vague sight far off in the distance. He heaved a sigh, glancing at her before at the rest of the group, noticing for the first time that Riker had lagged behind to listen. He sighed again, then forced a small smile. "Come, hurry along now you Humans! We would hardly want to be late!"

"Late for what?"

/-/-/-/

/- _**Hours Later**_

"So what's for dinner?" Came the crude remark from the back row as the haggard crew stepped over the threshold into the caves. Crusher smirked even though she rolled her eyes at her commanding officer. Riker flashed his dimples at her, as if that would work with someone other than his wife.

"Well several things," Her Qui started, stepping over a rise in the cavern floor. He pushed aside the cloth curtains and stuck half his body inside, breathing in the cooler air. He smiled back at them as he called over his shoulder, "Tonight we celebrate."

"Celebrate what?" Kent looked to Riker; the Admiral shrugged and followed the others.

Nothing was said as they headed the short distance to the dining room they had been in several times before. Riker was shocked by the sudden eruption of noise and music. He stepped over and into the room, looking to his left. One young man beat steadily on a long drum. Two younger boys were on his sides, each of them adding their own beat to the music. Wind instruments were in the hands of people lining the walls and mingling in the crowd. Some kind of chimes were off in the far corner and on the other side of the room an older woman sat playing a harp-like instrument.

"Come!" Her Qui said happily, smiling and motioning for them to follow him farther inside. He smiled at those around him, exchanging quick words of pleasantries. Riker watch the exchange curiously for he knew Her Qui was royalty, these people his subjects, and yet they were on friendly terms While they headed his orders, they respected him as a man and friend.

"Plant life, for you, Ensign." Riker looked over to see Kent peering over his shoulder, gazing interested at the leafy yellow substance.

"Thanks." Her Qui nodded once.

"And for the rest, you may have whatever you like."

"Thank-you." He paused, looking over the food. It was much the same as they had eaten in the past two days. "Her Qui?"

The Yenyarian looked up from the _goblet_ he had just picked up, "Please, you should call me Gemi in private."

"Gemi? Call me Will then." He cleared his throat, looking around himself. "What exactly is it that we are celebrating?"

A shadow of a smile began to pull at Gemi's lips. "No reason specifically. It is simply something we do randomly. A celebration of life, if you will." Will nodded, choosing to hide his opinion in favor of eating some food. He picked at a few chunks of dried meat. He looked to Kent to see the man picking at his own food. "Enjoy yourselves," Gemi said top them with a bright smile on his face, "Find me if you need anything." Will just nodded.

"Interesting people, these Yenyarians."

Will nodded. "They are that, Bev. They are that."

"No reason we shouldn't enjoy it," Kent said, smirking. "Whatever these are, aren't even too bad."

"No?"

"No."

"I'll just stick with this stuff."

Kent shrugged. "Suit yourself." After a moment, Kent turned to Will. "So you've got nothing against us… mingling?"

Will shook his head. "Go," he gestured to the crowd, "Enjoy yourself. But whatever you do, just remember you still have to get up and work tomorrow."

"Yes, sir."

Will gave a hearty chuckle as Kent went off in search of company. He looked to Beverly. She was smiling _amused_ at him. "What?"

"Nothing."

"Strange people, Eanus, eh?"

"Yeah, but then most would say that about us Humans."

"Yeah, well we already know that. It's the ones that won't admit to it you've got to watch out for."

"Do you even know what you're saying anymore, Will?"

"Not a clue."

"That's what I thought." Beverly yawned, picking up a few pieces of meat and setting them in her hands. "I think I'm going to call it a night."

"Already? Not going to enjoy the party?"

"Nah." She shook her head. He looked at her closely, shaking his head when he noticed for the first time the dark circles under her eyes and the exhaustion in her eyes.

"Kay. Goodnight." She nodded and started to walk off. Will looked over his shoulder before stepping up to her. "Hey!" She turned and looked at him, eyebrows connecting as she waited for him to continue. "You don't have to come tomorrow. Get some sleep; I know how hectic Sickbay has been these past months."

"No different than Engineering or your office."

Will smirked with her at her last comment. Then he nodded. "Okay. See you bright and early then."

"Take your own advice, Will, don't stay up too late, okay?"

"I won't."

"Good. Goodnight."

"Night."

As Will looked around, he noticed with a sigh that the entire place was the complete _opposite_ of what he felt. The loud, rambunctious music, the dancing couples, the smell of spice in the air, everything. It all just tore his pain, his loneliness deeper.

Will held tight onto his drink as he wandered around the room. He noticed Beverly not far away and smiled when one of the Yenyarians asked her to dance. She seemed surprised, only serving to make him laugh even more. He took a sip, cringing as the liquid _slid_ down his throat. He looked down into the cup. It was cool to the touch, but burned his mouth. After a moment of bewilderment, he turned his attention to the room. He caught sight of Kent through the crowd talking with some engineers. Taking another sip, he sighed.

He continued pacing the room, forcing a smile for a young girl who asked her to dance with him. He shook his head and moved on.

Eventually his wandering led him to an _alcove _where he found Gemi standing, watching with a merry smile. He turned at Will's approach. "Enjoying the festivities?" Will just nodded, turning away as his eyes quickly relocated Beverly. "Miss her?"

Will looked sharply back at Gemi, the young man smiling knowingly. "I'm sorry?"

"Your special loved one." Gemi paused a moment, searching for a word, "Your wife?" Will nodded, looking away and taking a sip. He cringed. "What is her name?"

"Deanna." The word flowed simply from his lips. Gemi grinned at him, but slowly his face grew_ solemn_. Will glanced at him between sips of the red liquid. "What's her name?" he repeated, his won tone as knowing as Gemi's had sounded.

"Kyr'an. She loved in another cave system like this. It is not always often that we see each other. In fact, it has been many long months since I have seen her."

"I know how you feel."

Gemi smiled oat Will. "You will be home soon. Worry not"

Will gave his best at looking equally as certain, though he didn't feel as if he had managed to do so at all. Gemi left after a short moment of silence, leaving Will to wallow in his drink. He took one last gulp of it, forcing the liquid down. He glanced around himself, looking for some kind of inspiration to do something. To enjoy himself. When he found none, Will retreated from the lights and music and to the quiet sleeping area.

/-/-/-/

/- _**May,**_ _**Two Months Later**_

The days had passed slowly for Will. He had filled then with as much work as Beverly and Gemi would allow. But the nights still dragged out, leaving Will drifting in and out of sleep.

Work on the shuttle was easy enough for the most part. They had finished a few days ahead of schedules, surprising Kent by fixing it all in just over three weeks. He spent the last two days checking everything over. Will had laughed at him, but didn't dissuade him from going out to the shuttle.

The only problem Will saw there was that it didn't matter how fast they went, no matter how quickly the repairs went, they still had to wait. The past four days, Will had moped around the caves, wishing for something to do, but had found little. He turned to say that he couldn't wait to leave, though he did enjoy the people and their culture, it could do without the heat.

He blinked slowly, pushing hard against his eyes, rubbing his face. No matter how much or how hard he rubbed, it no longed forced away the exhaustion or the longing. No longer helped with the growing desire to see her, to hold her.

It wasn't the first time he had lost sleep thinking about Deanna and the kids. He had spent a lot of restless nights staring at the ceiling wondering about them. What had Liz made in school? Chamberlain had just started school. He wondered how he was taking it. How Deanna was taking all the stress of her work. If Lwaxana was annoying her with something. He wondered most often what they thought had happened to him.

"Hey, Will? You out there?"

He turned his head just slightly at the sound of Beverly's voice, but didn't turn to look at her. Instead he kept his focus on the horizon. He had adopted the spot as his own thinking place. Some nights he found himself there. Couldn't really be called night since he was often there watching the three suns. But, most times, he watched them set.

The light was fading quickly, turning the sky from a deep orange to _violent_ purple.

"Yeah, I'm right here."

"Gemi said we've got to leave soon. It seemed pretty urgent that we go quickly."

Will nodded. "You guys ready?"

"Yeah. Just thought you might want to go in and say goodbye."

Will just shook his head. "No, I did yesterday for the most part. I'm ready to go whenever."

"Okay. I'll tell Gemi." Will just nodded, listening as Beverly turned and walked away. He heard her pause and thought for a moment she might start to talk to him again. But then she continued. He moved his attention back onto the horizon, staring blankly into oblivion.

Some time later, Beverly returned, this time flanked by Kent, Gemi, and some of the others. He stood and, with a short nod at Gemi, the party moved out and towards the desert.

The hike was just as hard as any others had been. The heat was still radiating of the ground from the cruel suns, forcing beads of sweat to pour off their bodies. The last of light had just fallen behind the dunes to the north, forcing the party to guide themselves by memory and a single light. Gemi didn't answer when Will inquired about the light. He shook his head and continued on, leaving Will to fall back and walk with Kent and Beverly.

The Yenyarians walked faster than normal and, when Will looked closer, he realized how tense the four aliens were. They moved quickly, looking around with an air of caution, looking over their shoulders, anxious for a sudden attack. Their behavior alone put Will on edge and he too began to search the desert for some danger he had not seen in the past month.

The half a kilometer, though slightly daunting the first time he had walked it, was now a short distance to Will and even an easy distance to his aging body. It didn't take long to arrive there; in fact they made it in less time than normal.

Kent wasted no time jumping into the shuttle. Will watched him, but said nothing. Instead he turned to Gemi. "Thank-you for everything, Gemi."

The man nodded, taking Will's offered hand. "It was an honor. You must go quickly."

"Why? What is it-"

"Her Qui! Tan ti'say!"

Gemi's eyes rose to the sky and Will turned to see what was wrong. Beverly turned herself and even Kent poked his head out of the shuttle to look. Will found what they were pointing at, surprised as he started at the far sand dunes.

"You guys have ships?"

"When will you understand that we have technology?" Will blanchedat the _reprimand_ but there was little time to focus on it. Kelnor was already pulling at his robes, revealing a tightly fitting suit underneath. He pulled something resembling a bow and arrow from his back, taking up position. Riker looked away to see the other three do the same. He motioned quickly to Kent. The Ensign was frozen for a moment before nodding with understanding. He retreated into the shuttle before ducking back out and tossing two phasers Riker's way.

"Go, Admiral! Get out of here before it's too late."

"We're not leaving you here with this."

"Go!"

Riker looked over at Crusher, then Kent. He shook his head, watching Crusher as she watched him. Riker tossed the phaser at her and took up a spot near Kelnor. "We're helping."


	27. Year 10: 2381, continued

/-/-/-/

/- _**May, At The Same Time**_

For some time, Data had been perplexed by the Human reaction to new worlds. They found them stunning. A sight of extreme beauty. Data saw only what was there: a planet, a body of mass that may or may not be inhabited. The Human capacity for such wonder mystified him. Even with his emotion chip, it continued to elude his grasp.

The android's head titled to the side, observing closely the planet below. He was told it was one of the most beautiful planets in the quadrant- though second always to that person's own homeworld. He had stood entranced by it since they had arrived in the Bajoran system but, no matter how he looked at it, he could not see it. See what amazed his Human friends.

"Mr. Data? Find something interesting out there, have you?"

Admiral Keshna glided down to the front of the bridge with an effortless grace. Data watched the Trill, waiting to see if she would say something more. When all she did was flash him an amused smile, he opened his mouth to reply but then chose against it. The Admiral was already moving away from him, turning to head into her office.

"Data? Would you join me in here?"

The android nodded, even though the Admiral's back was to him. While some Human emotions failed him, one did not. Data missed his former commander and friend- he missed Riker. He was even surprised to notice that he found Admiral Keshna entering the Captain's Ready Room disturbing.

After a short pause, Data joined her inside the ready room. He looked around, noticing how subtly it had changed over the years. As Captain, it had taken Riker some time before he became comfortable enough to add his own touches to the room. Eventually pictures of Deanna and his children had been scattered about. But, as time wore on and Riker had left the ship, these things had left with him. Captain Dezmond had not been onboard long enough to find time to add his own things to the room. Riker, upon his return, had brought little life back to the office. Even after all his time back onboard, he had added little more than PADDs filled with reports and charts and lists of names. Admiral Keshna, however, preferred some life to the office. Data found himself immersed back years before when Captain Picard still occupied the office, when he filled the room with his endless supply of novels and artifacts. Data, himself, had added nothing to the office though the Admiral insisted that he should.

He was surprised at first, then confused at the offer. She claimed it was his office as much as it was hers. But he preferred working in his own room when he was not on duty. What had shocked him more than the offer to use the Ready Room was her telling him of his promotion. Data had thought little of such a promotion until Captain Dezmond had arrived. His hopes for captaincy had been short lived, squelched by the sight of the Captain. Admiral Riker had fought hard for his promotion to captain but to no avail. It had ceased to bother him some time ago.

But, without even the smallest hint of it, Data had been promoted. Upon her arrival, Admiral Keshna had announced his promotion as the newest Captain of _Enterprise_. She was his ship to command; the Admiral would simply use it as a command center.

Lieutenant Commander Byron was still only acting first officer, for he had no authorization to promote him to Commander. He had tried once already, only to have his request ignored, then flatly denied. But the Betazoid didn't seem bothered by it and so Data had yet to really speak with her about the subject.

"Yes, Admiral?"

"Sit down, Data, I want to have a talk with you."

Data did as told, easing into the couch across from the desk. She remained standing, pacing slowly to the other side of the office before walking back over to him. He merely watched her, body relaxing as he allowed himself to be blanketed by some emotions. It was his newest skill with the emotion chip, learning to mix his logical mind with that of emotions in such a way that he remained in control but behaved more naturally to Humans.

"I know that you were close to Admiral Riker and Doctor Crusher." Data nodded once, seeing already in her eyes what she was about to tell him.

"They are going to stop the search."

Keshna nodded, Data looked down at his hands, forcing back the emotions. He still barely understood them, barely knew what he was feeling, but he had become thoroughly proficient at keeping all of them at bay.

"Yes," she said after a short time, "They are. It's been two months, Data, and they haven't found anything. No sign or trace of them. All they know is that they headed into an unknown system. Even that they're not sure of. You can understand, can't you? With a war going on, we don't have the resources to keeping looking."

"I understand, Admiral. It is not me that you must explain this to."

She nodded slowly. He watched the wrinkles around her eyes frowning at him, her mouth curve just slightly, her eyes softening. "Are you going to do it, or shall I?"

Data paused for a moment. His eyes found the floor for a while, realizing suddenly that he did not know where or when he had picked up the action. Suddenly he stood, finding her dark blue eyes. "The crew should hear this from me."

"Very well. Whenever you are ready, Data."

Data nodded slowly. He didn't turn away quickly, as she had almost expected after his sudden rising. Instead he stood starring at the door. She stopped herself before she spoke, watching him instead.

When she had first heard about Riker, she had been saddened. Though their meetings had been few and far between, and mostly official meetings. He had taken over her spot on Betazed for her for a short period when she needed it. But, when she had been offered his spot two months ago, she had been shocked. She had been a field Captain once- one who swore never to sit behind a desk- but that was a very long time ago. Sometimes it felt as if she had been behind her desk much longer than she had ever been in space. She would admit that the allure of returning to a stint in space was extremely appealing. And a position on _Enterprise_…

She had never seen anything wrong with Commander Data. He was an android, and that she found remarkably valuable, even interesting. She had never met him before she arrived on _Enterprise_, but no report honestly made her feel threatened by him as either a first officer or captain. That was why she was surprised to find that neither was he Captain of the ship, nor did he have official control of the ship under Admiral Riker. She had therefore chosen that to be one of the first changes she had sought to make.

The loss of Doctor Crusher as well was severe. As a medical doctor, few were better. As a person, few were lovelier and more charming than she was. Keshna had reviewed several of the officers before she arrived on _Enterprise_ but was not sure whether or not she wished to chose any to replace the doctor. Data had advised that, instead, she promote a young doctor by the name of Doctor Beckett to acting chief medical doctor. She had to smile at that- Data knew his people, not just their records but he knew many of them on an emotional level. She'd heard others say he was incapable of it, but Data had proved them wrong on several occasions.

Standing there in her office, watching Data mull over his words for a few short minutes in private simply proved that. He was just as affected by the loss of the three officers as any other member of the ship. Maybe even more so, he had known two of them for nearing two decades.

Keshna said nothing as she watched his head raise and his shoulders square so subtly. Watched as he sucked in air he didn't need. She knew if she was watching his face she would be watching a range of changing emotions as he fixed a mask to his face, hiding everything he didn't wish his crew to see or hear. It was, in fact, quite amazing to her to realize that he wasn't just a machine as some viewed him, but a thinking, living, feeling being.

He glanced over his shoulder, yellow-tinted eyes falling on her. For a long moment, she held his gaze, finally breaking it by giving him the smallest of nods. He returned it, then looked back to the door. A beat passed before he took two confident strides out the door, moving easily to his place on the bridge. Keshna watched from the Ready Room, nodding to herself. "They're wrong, Data," she whispered to herself, "You're more than ready for this."

/-/-/-/

/- _**Two Weeks Later**_

_He was surprised to say that he liked it on Deep Space Nine. It was… quaint perhaps wasn't the right word, but it was the one Acting Commander Byron chose to use as he took in the Cardassian station, stepping off the turbolift and onto the promenade. _

_Glancing to his right, he noted immediately the vast variety and color of the shops and restaurants. He looked up, finding a second story to the promenade. He grinned, head swiveling in all directions as he tried to identify all the stores. There was a Klingon restaurant in the far corner- several Klingons had taken up the entire area; he was still a little unused to seeing Klingons serving on Alliance outposts. A storekeeper to his left appeared to be a tailor, and a Cardassian if he wasn't mistaken. A Frengi poked his head out of his establishment- a bar, undoubtedly, but by far the most populated of the strip. There was a commissary, as well, and a sweet shop. A few other shops with assorted items. And, at the end of the promenade, appeared to be a Bajoran temple._

_Byron smiled as he looked around. Finally, he turned to look at his companion. Captain Data walked stiffly and at a pace just faster than Byron would like, but he kept up the best he could. Small talk, however, was not Data's best talent. Silence continuously dominated their walks, no matter how often Byron tried to strike up conversation. He sighed, looking away again, before finding a point to look at on Data's cheek. "So what do you think about this place?"_

_He looked over to his Captain. The android shrugged, his green eyes scanning over the area as they walked across the promenade. "In what regard? As an outpost, a military position-"_

"_No, as… as a place to live?"_

_Data cocked an eyebrow, though he still didn't meet Byron's eye. "Just as any other outpost, it is sound and well operated. Though not the safest place for children."_

"_True," Byron said, his voice barely above a whisper. He nodded only for show, sighing soundlessly at their interaction. Data had always been an enigma he couldn't unravel. An officer to be respected. But he had never spent much time alone with Data. There had always been Admiral Riker, or Commander LaForge, or sometimes even Dr. Crusher with them. "What do you think about Bajor? With joining the Alliance and all?"_

"_While her economy and government has finally stabilized, I am uncertain as to how wise a decision it is to allow them entrance into the Alliance so quickly."_

"_We need as many allies as we can get."_

"_But at the expense of those allies? Bajor can offer us very little now- especially with military aid. But, in a decade, they could offer much more and hopefully without the need for military assistance. They have limited ships, and none of them are equipped to fight the Federation or the Mikolians. They are not trained for that kind of combat. They still rely on us for their medical supplies and stores of Tritonion ore. They will be little help in the following years."_

"_I guess." He scratched his temple, suddenly realizing why he had never been alone with Data. With someone else there, there was always someone to stop him or change the subject. Byron was just feeling dumber by the second. "But they want to join. They want to help."_

"_They have been helping. But now the Alliance is going to force their militia into Alliance officers- they already have here on the station- and will move them into battle. Many Bajorans will die because they are the first new resource we have had in quite some time."_

_He gave a sidelong glance, observing the android's profile before he asked, "Do you really think that?"_

_His Captain slowed his precise step just slightly, turning his head to finally give Byron a long calculating look. "Would I have said it if I did not?"_

_Byron shrugged and let out a sigh. He looked away, once again feeling _overwhelmed_ by the silence in the mists of such commotion. His Captain was not as easy to speak to as some claimed. He had gotten better- at least that was what many often told him- but Byron simply couldn't find a common ground with him. He usually was good with people, good with understanding and relating to them. But Data… _

_The tactical officer shook his head. His eyes once again started roaming the station, taking in the different races. He supposed that the variety had dropped substantially over the years. Before the war, he supposed, there were more interesting species. But with the wormhole effectively closed that was no longer true. _

_Two officers caught his attention. One, he noticed, was an engineer. The chief, judging by the insignia. He was curly haired, the red hair and pale skin a stereotype for the Human Irishman. The other, however, was of far more interest. She too supported red hair, however hers was far longer- nearly reaching her shoulders- but straight. She, though, was no stereotypical Irish Human, but quite a beautiful Bajoran woman. She glanced his way, before turning back to her companion. Byron just caught the words as they neared the two. _

"_I think it looks good on you."_

_The Bajoran shook her head. "I don't know."_

"_What's not to know?"_

"_Well, for one, it's itchy." Byron smirked. "And doesn't fit as well as my other uniform." He glanced her over, mentally hitting himself at the action, listening as she continued on with her rant, "And… And I just got used to Colonel- I'll never get used to being called Commander." The Irishman laughed; even Byron smirked. He supposed she was Bajoran militia. "Don't laugh, Miles. It's true"_

"_Commander," Miles teased, "Trust me when I say that these uniforms are hardly uncomfortable. You should have tried being in one eleven years ago- now those were uncomfortable. Even the ones before that. They were bad too. No, these- these ones are just fine with me."_

_The Commander rolled her eyes, shaking her head at the man. Byron looked at her face as they grew closer, suddenly realizing why she looked familiar. He was sure she was the first officer of the station. "I don't care about the old uniforms, this is the one I have to wear and this is this one I find uncomfortable."_

"_Whatever you say, Commander."_

"_Commander?"_

"_Hmm?" Byron was pulled away from their conversation when he heard Data's voice. He looked, his face rather blank as his Captain looked on expectantly. "Sorry. Did you say something?"_

_/-/-/-/_

_/- _**About The Same Time**

"That makes eight starships docked here. Five more in the system! Plus the _Defiant_ and the two Klingon ships." Sisko just nodded at his first officer as she listed off the numbers. Kira looked up at him, _flailing_ her arms. "Sir, we can't handle this many people."

"They're not all going to live on the station, Kira. Hardly any of them are."

"That's not what I was talking about." His brow cocked as he leaned back in his seat, fingertips coming together as he waited for her to continue. "Most of them are in need of repairs. The Chief doesn't have that kind of resources. He's been badgering me for the past month to get him more supplies for the _Defiant_ alone. But all these ships? And he feels it's his duty or something to help out the _Enterprise_."

"Kira-"

"Captain, we can't handle this many ships."

"I know. But are you actually saying that you don't appreciate that the Alliance is finally recognizing Bajor and DS9 as something worthy of protection."

The Bajoran stopped short, opening and closing her mouth before answering, "No. But they could have realized that a little while ago."

"They should have, yes. But now they are, now we have ships and protection, and now you're complaining?" Kira's cheeks went pink and she looked away as Sisko gave a dry chuckle. "It's okay," he sighed, "Was there anything else you needed besides this?"

"No… sir."

"Good, there was something I wanted to talk to you about, then."

She looked up at him. "About what?"

His hand swept over the chair beside his desk. Kira glanced at it, eyeing it for a moment before moving toward it. Sisko waited until she was seated before he continued. "About Bajor. How do you feel about it all?"

Kira just shrugged. But, when she saw that he was waiting for more, she started slowly, "I… I know I wouldn't have said this when you showed up, but I mean it now. I'm glad for Bajor. I'm glad she's a part of the Alliance."

"Really?"

Kira nodded earnestly. "Very much so."

He cracked a small smile- the most he ever managed sincerely over the past months. "And the crew? How are they handling the, um… the changes?"

"The only thing that has changed, Captain, is a few uniforms and the name of ranks. And while I've heard a few complaints about the comfort of said uniforms, everything has gone smoothly."

"Good. No one has any other problems?"

"Not that I've heard."

He gave a deep nod, turning to look back at his desk. "That's good."

"Anything else, sir?"

"Uh, yes, actually." He looked back at her.

"What would that be?"

"You."

"Me, sir?"

"I know that Commander is sort of a demotion. Colonel should, technically, be equivalent to Captain-"

"I don't mind, sir, it's-"

"Let me finish." Kira closed her mouth, raising her brows quickly at his curt manner. "I've sent in the request that you be promoted to Captain and for you to take command of the _Defiant_."

Kira froze, looking up at him slack jawed and wide eyed. "You want me to be Captain of the _Defiant_?" she said uncertainly, watching his expression change. His face cracked into another smile, one larger and broader than she had seen on his face in years.

"I haven't been onboard the poor ship in nearly a year. You have. You've been in command nearly every time she's left this station in the past few years. I think you've earned it… Captain. What do you say?"

She nodded slowly, color graduallyreturning to her face. Her eyes drifted to the side and from Sisko's face as he mouth closed, a smiling starting to appear. "Thank-you, sir."

"Stop calling me 'sir'. It's Ben."

"Ben?" she forced out, shaking her head. "Give me some time on that."

"Okay," she said with a soft chuckle.

"Okay. Thank-you."

"Don't thank me. Just make me proud."

She smiled, only because he was smiling. With a confident nod, she said, "I can do that."

/-/-/-/

/- _**About the Same Time**_

She saw his father in his eyes. Not their color, for he had inherited her deep brown orbs, but when he smiled. Flashing his dimples, his eyes shined with a pure joy, much like Will's once had. Will's had grown dark with the stresses of war, no longer sparkling like they had in the early days of their relationship.

Too much of Will was in his face. She hardly thought of it as a bad thing- his father was an attractive man with great features- but every time she looked into his face, a stab of pain brought back the memories of his father. Chamberlain was a beautiful baby, and was now showing signs of developing into a handsome young boy.

A mop of black hair was constantly growing. It amused her more that an identical lock of hair fell into his eyes. It made her smile to brush it away just as she did so often for Will.

It scared her how old he was getting. Five already, and he would be six after the summer. It scared her to watch him age so fast and recall how little Will had seen of him over the past five years. Scared her to think that Will didn't get to know this bright eyed little boy with the wide smile and chubby cheeks. Didn't know how much he loved to paint with his fingers and how little chocolate he actually ate. How much Betazoid he knew- Liz didn't even know more than a few words.

She watched both her little children and cried inside to think that they would grow up without a father. Oh, she still had hope that he was out there. That he was still alive. But that hope had been diminished so much in the past years of war that she could just barely bring herself to believe anything. To believe that miracles were still possible. She tried and she wished and she might have prayed if she still had any faith left, but the fact of the matter was that she didn't.

Liz had just turned eleven. Will missed her birthday again. How many birthdays he had missed. How many days, how many steps of the way he had missed. She wanted so badly to be mad at him. Wanted to blame him for something; for the emptiness she felt; for the pain and sorrow she tried every day to bury in the depths of her heart. But she couldn't. She couldn't be mad at him for doing his job. She couldn't be mad at him for the war. She couldn't be mad at him for anything.

Liz still loved attending functions with her grandmother- much to Lwaxana's pleasure. She dressed in elegant robes made of Betazoid silk and styled her hair in curls. She smiled, displaying her two missing teeth. Will didn't know about that- she had just lost them. He knew about how much she loved to take things apart, but he didn't really know. He had heard about the time she'd taken apart the replicator, had heard about many of those incidents. He hadn't heard about the time she'd repaired her computer.

Deanna was surprised by her telepathy. It was amazingly advanced for her age. Will knew, but not really. There were so many things she told him, things he knew, but he wasn't there.

He didn't know the quirks about his children like she did.

Chamberlain had his smile. His gorgeous smile. He was going to turn six in a few months; Will would miss that birthday too. Deanna couldn't honestly remember if he had been at any of Chamberlain's birthdays.

She could hardly imagine that her son would grow up fatherless. He would know the name, he would see the face in pictures, he would know the history from school, but he would never know the man. He wouldn't remember the scattered times he'd seen his father face to face, probably wouldn't remember all the nights Will called to tell him and Liz a bedtime story.

Liz, too, would have so few memories. Most were when she was very young. So few were recent. Subspace transmissions were all she had known of her father in the past year.

Deanna, too, hurt thinking her Imazdi was gone. That she would never spend any more nights in his arms. That she had lost him to this dreaded war raging beyond her world. She hated it. That's what she chose to hate. The war. The Federation. Amen. She could focus her hate there. It was easier because nothing was easy anymore.

/-/-/-/

/- _**Around the Same Time**_

Lwaxana sighed, rocking on her heels. She looked to her right, clasping her hands behind her back, sighing as she waited in the transport room. She looked over her shoulder, ignoring the first remark that came to mind when she noticed the Alliance officer at the console.

Looking back at the transport pad. She rocked back onto the balls of her feet, sighing again, then sank back onto her heels.

"Receiving a request to transport." Lwaxana nodded, somewhat relieved that the officer wasn't in fact a Betazoid. She kept her focus on the transporter before her, listening to the sound of the machine whining, powering itself. The glimmering shape of a human figure appeared on the platform, slowly coming into focus.

Lwaxana smiled, seeing her figure solidify. "Pell. How was it?"

The Trill smiled at her friend, stepping down off the platform. She groaned sarcastically at the question. "Worked out in the end I guess."

Lwaxana smiled and nodded. "And you did it all without me."

"Ha, ha, ha."

"Where's-" The hissing of the door opening caught the older woman's ear, cutting off her words. She turned to look, rolling her eyes when she found Tayd walking in, smiling at Pell.

"Ambassador Lynn, you're back!"

Pell forced back a laugh as she smiled at him. "It's good to see you too, Tayd. How was Trill?"

"Pleasantly cold."

"Sounds nice."

Tayd's eyes perked at the sound of Lwaxana clearing her throat. His cheeks went pink and he turned, bashfully, towards her. With his eyes lowered, "Sorry, Ambassador." She merely held out her hand expectantly. Tayd's brows crinkled together in thought before he recalled the translucent sheet he was still holding onto. Handing it over, he let out a quiet, "Sorry."

"Thank-you, Tayd. Now, if you'll excuse us." The young Trill nodded, glancing back at Pell before he inched away from the two. Lwaxana sent him a faint glare, and Tayd retreated from the room. Lwaxana waited until she saw the doors close behind him before questioning Pell. "Where's Ambassador Aliyah?"

"Oh… Um, she's still on the ship."

"Isn't she supposed to be here, now?"

"She will be in a moment. Patience, Lwaxana."

"Patience for what? I shouldn't need any right now."

Pell sighed, then rolled her eyes, but otherwise ignored her long time friend. Then, as if noticing it for the first time, she gestured to the file. "What's that for?"

"Oh, um…" Lwaxana sighed, shaking her head as she looked down at the paper in hand. He lifted it up to eye level, glancing over the first couple of lines. "Not really sure. He does that a lot."

"What? Gives you the wrong file?"

"No. Just one I haven't asked for yet."

"Really? I need someone like that."

"Well maybe if you stopped requesting new aides, you'd find someone capable of doing that."

The Trill let out an exasperated sigh, even though she was faintly smirking. Sending Lwaxana an aggravated glare, she opened her mouth to shout back a remark. But, before she could, the sound of a person rematerializing met their ears. Both heads turned to find the form coming into focus.

Lwaxana ignored Pell for the moment, watching as a woman just shorter than her appeared. She appeared to be barely over twenty, though Lwaxana knew that she was far past the age of thirty. After a short moment, she came into better focus, Lwaxana able to see that her darker complexion wasn't a trick of the transporter, and that her eyes truly were that vivid shade of green. That last thing the Betazoid noticed was her bouncy brown hair, though, when she stepped farther into the light, revealed that it was actually more red than brown.

"You must be Ambassador Troi," she said evenly, a small smiling pulling at her lips. "I am Aliyah Neona."

"Yes. A pleasure." Lwaxana bowed her head, not knowing the Bajoran equivalent to a Human handshake.

"Sorry for inconveniencing you. My aide may have worked as an informant smuggling files from the Cardassians during the occupation, but he is completely inept at organizing them."

Lwaxana smirked at her. As a natural characteristic, she decided early on whether or not she liked a person. This person, she liked. "Mine unfortunately has a tendency of handing me files I don't need for another hour." Aliyah gave half smile as Lwaxana flashed the paper in hand at her.

"Well," Pell began with a sigh, "Shall we get on with this?"

Aliyah nodded slowly. Lwaxana smirked, Aliyah's emotions flooding through her senses. "Don't worry about this. This is nothing… not yet anyway."

Aliyah smirked, "I'm not sure it can get much worse than some of the things I've already been through."

"Cardassians, wormholes, and provisional governments?" Lwaxana teased; Aliyahjust gave a confirming nod. "Nah, the headache just gets bigger."

Aliyah bobbed her head in agreement. Then, with Pell sweeping her head to gesture toward the door, Aliyah walked out of the transporter room. Pell smirked, falling into step with Lwaxana. Leaning in closer, she whispered, "Told you you'd like her."

The Betazoid rolled her eyes. "Oh, shut up."

/-/-/-/

/- _**June,**_ _**A Week Later**_

Lwaxana yawned, rubbing the corner of her eye as she walked down the hallway, nearly running in her fast pace. A glance to the side and her eye caught sight of something. She slowed her pace, then stopped in front of the door. Peeking in, she noted immediately the fluttering of lights coming from the center of the room where holographic images floated through the air. Her mind scanned the room out of pure habit, bringing a lone figure to Lwaxana's attention.

She walked across the threshold, her approach silent to the distracted ears. Lwaxana's focus shifted between the holograms and the Human figure. Half way through the room, her eyes remained focused on the man's back, a small smirk growing as she was able to identify the man.

She watched the light flicker against the grey speckled brown hair, realizing how much older Captain Baylie was getting since their meeting only a year or so before.

"What are you working on?"

Baylie looked up, startled by her sudden voice. Then he simply shrugged. "Should be getting my report done, but…" His voice trailed off and he sheepishly looked back down at the console. Lwaxana followed where his eyes fell, intrigued as she looked down at the data. Her mind lightly ran over his, not the least embarrassed by her trespassing.

"What kind of simulations are you running there?"

"What?"

"Those simulations? What are they?"

"Oh," he looked up at her, then back down at the console, before his eyes settled back onto her. "Nothing really. Just some thoughts."

"I can read your thoughts just fine, Captain. What I'd like right now is a translation of them."

He appeared startled once again, eyes widening for a second as he thought over what she had said. Then, looking back down at his hands resting on the console, he punched in two quick sequences. His eyes flew over the data until the swirling numbers disappeared into a holographic image.

The Betazoid watched it for a moment, not taking her long to decipher it as a map of the quadrants. She easily spotted the Alliance as the blue lump and the Federation as the red. Cardassian space was just underneath Alliance territory, blocked from the Federation only by an area of disputed space. Breen space was besides both the Federation and Romulans, the Romulans' and Klingons' space in the Beta quadrant touching at the ends. Alliance space, however, barely touched the borders of Romulan space, just as Federation space hardly touched Klingon territory. She searched for a moment before finding Mikolian space amidst the colors. Its bulk- where Miko was- stretched between the far Federation and Alliance border. Its back was a thin strip, touching the border of Alliance space. She looked it over, realizing that Denobula and Galios were near by. She stared at it a moment longer, finding her own planet amiss the chaos.

"You made a map?"

"Yes," he said with a shrug, his response almost _sheepish_. "But that's not all."

"What does it do?"

"This." Lwaxana noticed a fire in his eyes, his pride showing through his _embarrassment_. But the moment was gone and she returned her attention to the holographic map hovering over the floor of the room.

Observing it closely, she noticed as the red invaded the blue space, encompassing a large section of it. "What am I watching?"

"You are watching the Federation take over the Alliance."

"Why?"

Baylie shrugged. "Because it might happen."

"Might?"

"We've been using a program similar to this for nearing a decade to observe our enemies' movements. It allows a better perspective of the war. The computer can even help predict possible outcomes, attacks, etc."

"Is that what you're doing?"

"Sort of." His hands found their way to his pockets as his tongue wet his lips. He sighed, then gestured back to the map. She looked, noting that it had reset itself. "This is what the borders currently look like. You see those Federation seals? Those are where they've concentrated their ships." Lwaxana nodded, observing the symbols and colors as carefully as her untrained eye could.

"What about them?"

"High Command thinks they're preparing to attack this region." A circular glow appeared around Trill space, encompassing a small amount of Vigolian territories as well. "That's what their troop deployment suggests."

"You disagree?"

Baylie just gave a stiff nod. "Look at this." The image changed; the gold circle disappeared and the Federal seals moved themselves. "These are all the areas where at least seven ships are stationed, but not more than fifteen."

"What's the significance of seven and fifteen ships?"

"Having at least seven ships is basically saying this place is important enough to keep a presence in, but not enough to launch an attack from. More than fifteen generally suggests a build up to something."

"So what's your point?"

"Look at where they're located."

She looked. Squinting against the brightness of the yellow blurb, she _observed_ the Federation seals, trying to find some pattern that Baylie had seen. But she found nothing. Shaking her head in defeat, she looked back at him.

"You see that yellow?" She nodded, finding it again. "Disputed lands, correct?"

"Yes."

"They may be dangerous because of spasmodic skirmishes, but they're also an easy break in security and defenses. One could hide out in there or travel through without much problem."

"Yes. I'm still not-"

"Now look at how many troops they have stationed in the area."

"Seven or eight seals."

"Now look around. Do they have that many anywhere else?" She did as instructed. And, upon finding no other large cluster, shook her head negative. "What's in that area that's so important?"

"Nothing," she said instantly. "There's only one main planet in the area. Keb."

"Yes. Is that truly an important planet to protect with some many ships?"

"No. Economically they offer little. In population, however, they are an abundance."

"Just because you'll find about twenty on one ship doesn't warrant that many ships. No," he said, shaking his head, "They want to drop in from below…"

"From below? Through the disputed lands?"

"Or Cardassian territory."

"You think they'd waste resources on Cardassia? They would fight back."

"And most likely loose. In the past years, the Federation and Alliance have become two of the deadliest powers. Other _factions_ once had the technology to oppose us. Now… now they'd be cremated. And the Federation knows this."

"Have you showed this to High Command?"

"Yeah. They didn't listen. They're too focused on Trill and Vigo to notice."

"Well, then, we'll make them listen."

He looked up at her, wide eyed and _confused_, his face rather blank. "You're serious? You're going to stick up for me on this?"

"Why wouldn't I?"

He shrugged, becoming more uncomfortable with every word, "I don't know. Just always got them impression that you didn't like me much."

"I don't like you." She looked away, a shadow of a smile framing her features as she looked at the hologram. "But that doesn't mean you might not be right."

/-/-/-/

/- _**The Next Day**_

"I've already tried to convince them, you know?" Captain Baylie said staunchly as he followed Lwaxana down the hall. She was taking longer strides than his slightly shorter legs were accustomed to as she made her way to the High Command briefing room. "I don't think they're going to listen now."

"Oh, they'll listen," she paused, giving him a confident nod, "To me, they will. Whether or not it will do anything, now that is the question."

"What are you going to do?" He questioned tentatively as they grew neared to the entrance.

"You shall see."

"It's things like that that scare me about you."

She cast a mysterious smile over her shoulder. He shook his head in amazement as he watched the Betazoid enter the meeting room. In the two years he had been apart of the High Command, he had never seen anyone slam the doors wide open and marchfearlessly into the room. Late, no less, and not show any hint of weakness. He smirked at the sight, before regaining his professionalism and following her inside.

His eyes wandered around the room, glancing quickly at the table and finding his seat. He had always wondered at the room. In its center was a conference table, but, like the war room, it was capable of displaying a holographic image over the entire length. The table was surround by nine chairs; only two were occupied by actual people while six of the others were occupied by solid holograms. The last was his own seat. He looked over at Lwaxana, nervously taking his seat. A glance across the table revealed the image of Admiral Keshna gazing steadily at the flamboyant woman. To his left, he saw Admiral Hilger, a renowned tactical thinker in charge of the Gamma Fleet. He was the only one who initially gave Baylie some credit. Captain Black- the commander of the Delta Fleet- was across form him. To his right were the Admirals in charge of the Federation Council planets. Admiral Jackson was the only one actually there, the other four represented by their holographic selves.

"Ambassador Troi, to what do we owe the pleasure?"

Her face was covered by a similar smile she had just sent Baylie, only this time it was not kind and sarcastic, but forced and almost malevolent. The expression itself gave Baylie the feeling that she did not like Jackson any more than he did.

She strolled easily around the room, commanding everyone's attention as she approached Jackson. "I know I'm not usually involved in military matters, but something came to my attention the other day and I was wondering if I could run it by all of you?"

"And what would that be?"

Baylie arched an eyebrow as she ran a hand over the back of Jackson's chair, walking behind him in an almost seductive manner. "I'm not a tactical genius, but I know a few things."

"And those few things would be?" Jackson stayed still in his chair, looking down at his hands as if uncomfortable with Lwaxana's control of the room.

Baylie looked back at Lwaxana. He held his breath, waiting for what could potentially be disastrous. "That the Federation isn't going to attack Trill." The air in his lungs forced its way out, leaving Baylie breathless as he stared up at her. Had he truly heard this woman speak so frankly to the High Command?

"You don't think so?" Admiral Keshna's holographic voice caught his attention. He looked to the Trill as the woman leaned forward. He focused his attention on her for a moment instead, letting himself marvel- again- at the design. Rather than using viewscreens, the room was something akin to a holodeck, allowing the transmitted data to be sent into holographic form. It was an experimental concept, but it allowed the four to eight members of High Command not normally on Betazed to convene.

"No, I don't." Lwaxana's words pulled Baylie out of his memories to the first time he had experienced being on his ship during a briefing. He looked back to the Ambassador, realizing that she had paced half the length of the room. "I looked at what Captain Baylie showed you all earlier," she nodded to him, and he felt his cheeks redden, "And I don't think they will."

"Well this board of tactical," Jackson paused, and Baylie knew he was debating what term to use as he often paused to do, "geniuses thinks different."

"Really?" Baylie watched Jackson tremble under Lwaxana's firm gaze and _sly_ smirk, "Why are they going to attack Trill?"

"Why are they going to attack from Cardassia?"

His question only broadened Lwaxana's smile. Baylie's brows wrinkled as he noted an alien expression on her face. One of effortless concentration that he had never seen before on any Human's face. "For the same reason you're thinking right now. What tactical value does Trill hold to them right now? Nothing," she said easily for him. Baylie realizedthat she must have been reading his thoughts. "Then why take it? They hit Betazed, but you said yourself that they never intended on trying to capture it."

She looked around the table and stopped on one of the faces. Baylie followed her eyes, the end leading him to Admiral Hilger. The older man was studying her intently, holding her eye just as much as she was his. "Ambassador, may I ask a frank question?"

"Yes, Admiral?"

"What, precisely, do you care about the matter?" He paused, though not for enough time to allow her to answer, before continuing, "This is something for Alliance Fleet to worry about. It's not your job."

"It might not be my job," she said slowly, "but I do care. My planet was attacked," she looked sharply at Jackson, "this 'board of tactical geniuses' said they would never. That says something to me."

"So now you're never going to trust our judgment?"-

"Captain Baylie agreed at the time with our assessment of Betazed."

Lwaxana shook her head, surprising Baylie. He had been the one to speak in depth with her on the matter, and later he spoke for a short while with her after the attack. "No he didn't, he was just embarrassed to tell you that you all were wrong. He's saying it now, and I'm listening. Why aren't you?"

"Because there's nothing to listen to. We took heed of his warning. There is sufficiently more Alliance Fleet presence in the area-"

"Thirty more ships? What is that going to do against-"

"We've heard your objections, Captain." Baylie recoiled under Jackson reprimand, being silenced before the Admiral turned his attention back to Lwaxana. "Sorry to waste your time, Ambassador, but there is nothing to be done. We will keep our eye on the area, but we will keep our focus on Trill for the time being. Don't worry."

"You've said that many times before, Admiral." Her voice was dark, her eyes narrowed. Baylie had known Lwaxana to be annoyed- she had been in a constant state of that with him since the day they met- but he had never seen her angered. Not even after Betazed was attacked was she even hostile in his presence.

"Has Betazed been captured yet?"

"No, but other planets have. If no one here will listen to reason, I must leave. There are far more interesting ways to waste my time." She left no time to argue or for anyone to say anything farther on the subject before turning on her heels and storming from the room. She yanked hard on the doors, slamming them into the wall and marching through them, leaving them to slam closed behind her. Baylie watched her, frozen to his chair even as he longed to follow her in such a display.

The sound of a chair shifting caught his attention and Baylie looked to see Keshna pushing her chair back and standing, her form disintegrating as she deactivated the link between _Enterprise_ and Betazed.

Baylie glanced at the rest of the table before taking the lead and retracing Lwaxana's path, though he made far less a production of it, and marched away down the hall.

/-/-

So, what do you think? Personally, I really started to like Baylie and Lwaxana together (mind you, not quite as much as Lwaxana and Tayd...) Well drop a review and talk my ear off ... especially if I forget to post the next part. ;) It should be up on Saturday, but I'm liable to forget about it.


	28. Year 10: 2381, continued again

_Author's Note_: As promised, it's Saturday and here's the next chapter. Okay, so it's late Saturday but...

Anyway, enjoy! And don't forget to talk my ear off at the end.

/-/-/-/

/- _**A Week Later**_

With a cringe, Lwaxana watched as the ships collide, closing her eyes before the resulting explosion filled the screen. The feed wasn't live, there were no minds screaming in hers, but she felt it anyway. Felt and heard from memory only. But it was there. She shook her head, returning her eyes to the screen. More phasers were fixed, more torpedoes erupted, striking shields and ships. The transmission became fuzzy, but not enough to _hide_ the _sight_ of another Alliance ship crumbling under the pressure of phaser fire. The flash blinded the screen, _before_ revealing the Mikolian ship to be approaching the nearby planet.

The transmission went black for a second, then the image returned. Red flared on the screen. Lwaxana had rarely been on a ship in the middle of an attack, however she knew what she was seeing. Three Mikolian ships had focused their phasers on the enduringship. Lwaxana heard how the transmission ended, however she turned her head away before she saw it. The minds, the thoughts, the screams, all the emotions- it all erupted in her mind, but she knew none of it was real.

"Turn it off," she said softly, not looking. She didn't know what Baylie thought in response- the memories drowning them out- but when she looked back a moment later the scream was off and the Captain was watching her, trying hard to gauge her reaction.

Baylie sighed and turned back to the consul, pulling out a datarod from the access port. He worked, watching his hands for a short moment, waiting for her to something. Finally, she did, "They took Galios?"

"Yes. Again."

"Damn… this wasn't something you were predicting."

Baylie shook his head. "No, it was a possibility the entire time- I expected them to keep up the fight for that planet." He shrugged, "Doesn't surprise me that they did. We've been pulling away reinforcements from that area for weeks- strengthening the patrols around Trill. No offense, but Galios is more important."

Lwaxana shook her head, a useless gesture to wash away his bleak emotions. "Then why show me that video clip?"

"You said you wanted to be involved."

Baylie bowed his head out of instinct for feeling embarrassed. He shifted his feet, folding his hands around the datarod. "Baylie- Brian… I truly do want to be a part of this and I appreciate the time you've put into the reports you give me."

"But-?"

"There is no 'but', Brian."

"I can't figure you out, Ambassador-"

"Lwaxana-"

"I really can't. You hated me when we first meet, now all you want to do is help me."

"I didn't hate you- I just was annoyed with you… but you were right then, and I think you're right now…"

"The fact that you hate Admiral Jackson…?"

"He's a prick." Baylie snorted, nodding. "What else can you tell me?"

"We're going back to rations and limited replicator use."

"Tell me something I don't know."

"They've punched a hole. One we're not filling in. But… it's still a weak spot; it has me worried."

"How so?"

Baylie shrugged, glancing back at the screen as icons shifted around and a map zoomed out to encompass the whole of the quadrant. "Not a bad place to punch through after you've got you enemy occupied."

"Punch through where?"

Baylie only glanced at her before he looked to the map, watching it zoom in near Cardassian space. "Right about here."

/-/-/-/

/- _**About the Same Time**_

"The President asked not to be disturbed. Sir… sir, you can't- you can't go- Sir!"

Ken finally stopped, spinning on his heels to confront the thirty-something male secretary with the high, squeaky voice. He opened his mouth in a vexed manner, but shut it, huffing out a sigh before continuing over the threshold of the door.

"Mr. President, we have to talk."

"Mr. President, I told him-"

Amen held up a single hand, silencing the simultaneously speaking voices. The secretary shuddered, making almost a whining noise as he waited for Amen to look back at him, ready to defend himself even through his violent stuttering.

Ken simply stood, back straight and chin held high as he watched Amen, waiting for his presence to be truly noticed. He sighed, eyes roaming to the ceiling then back at the President sitting quietly on his stool, his one hand poised over the canvas, paintbrush flittering across the surface. On his knee he had draped a small rag smudged with old, flaking paint. His eyes burned into the old cloth; his jaw clenched as he waited. The clattering of the paintbrush echoed in his ears, he watched as a drop of red paint plunged, splattering when it hit the ground.

It was at that moment that Amen cleared it throat, yanking Ken's focus from the brush. The President was glaring up at him, but Ken ignored the hostile look. Glancing to his side, he suddenly realized that the squeaky talking secretary had, at some point, been dismissed, leaving him alone with Amen.

Without a word, the man stood, wiping his hands before tossing the cloth onto the stool he had only just occupied. Ken didn't watch as he walked around his desk, or as he sank into his desk chair. Didn't watch Amen lacing his fingers together and peering over the computer screen at him. Didn't watch as he resumed reading a report as he waited for Ken. Didn't notice that he never spoke one word to force Ken's attention onto him.

Rather, the younger man found himself once again enthralled in the painted rag. His eyes focused on the swirls of pointless paint splatters. The more he stared at it, the more he found it to resembling the painting it the haphazardly _chucked_ near. The painting, too, was covered with harsh lines and dark colors. Reds blended with blacks, and any blues were near seas of red, any light colors were drowned out by the dark hues of Amen's soul. He titled his head, noticing that the rag did in fact mimic the painting well. The painting he didn't understand. Amen was always painting. Always so obsessed with his half hour devoted to the same image. In the past two years that Ken had been away, it had only grown more grotesque, more chaotic. Amen had grown more obsessed. More mysterious about it. He tried to see the image, the meaning, the point behind it. But it wasn't there.

"Mr. Smith, I'd like to think that you interrupted me and disturbed my assistant for some reason other than to stare blankly at nothing at all."

Ken slowly turned his light eyes to find Amen's dark ones. He sat so detached behind his desk circling around him. Ken clenched his jaw shut, shifting his weight as he glanced down at the floor before finding a place on Amen's nose.

"Reports have been coming in about the bombing. People want answers and I'm not sure what I'm allowed to be saying to them."

"Who wants answers?"

"The media, for one. Starfleet. The population. What am I supposed to tell them?"

"Well, think, Smith," Amen spat, "Have we ever wanted to confirm the existence of this… this resistance faction? No," the man drew out sarcastically, "Tell them it was a bombing. We're looking into it. Unfortunately there were two deaths and a few causalities. For any further information, contact so and so. And make sure they know not to be spreading anything around about who did it." Amen looked away, as if those were the final words necessary.

"Sir, this wasn't just some random building in some country." The President glanced back at him. He scoffed at the man, turning back to his work. "They're not being unorganized pains any more. It was the goddamned Starfleet Academy! People are going to notice that we're not giving them answers. The media's going to look into it. People are-"

"People are going to do what, Smith? Going to revolt?" Amen actually laughed at his own word. "What are they going to do? Get mad at me? Well guess what, they already are."

"Then why give them more reason to be mad at you? You want to stay in office?"

Amen shot him a look, glaring deep into his haggard eyes. "Tell them nothing, Ken. Get out of here."

Ken forced back a scowl, then the defiant thought of staying right there and continuing his fight. But that had always been his one failing with Amen- he'd never had the backbone to hold his ground and stand up to the man. He turned, shoulders slumping subtly with defeat as he retreated out the door, past the secretary's desk, and back to his own office, the painting still haunting his thoughts.

/-/-/-/

/- _**September, Three Months Later**_

He wiped the sweat from his brow, sighing a short breath of remorse as he surveyed the area around him.

Will stared at the caverns far off in the distance, subtly hidden by the shape of the rock and shadows of the night. A gust of wind blew a whirlwind of sand over the horizon; light was beginning to peak over the sand dunes. He observed them carefully, his tired eyes searching for any signs of disturbance.

_He watched with wide eyes as the shape buzzed over the horizon. For just a moment, it blocked the last sun, casting him and the others in a blanket of darkness. He shuddered, not from cold or fear but from the adrenaline rush, a sign he had learned from the many hundreds of other times he had prepared for battle._

He looked away when he felt secure that the horizon was clear. His eyes fell on the sand covered shuttle. It had been repaired, enough to fly, but now was decorated with burn marks and its name had begun to be withered away by the sand and harsh wind.

A gust blew sand into his face. He put his hand up, tightening his hood around his face. The days had started unusually windy for the past few days and hadn't let up. He was worried about flying in it, but knew he had little other choice.

_The figure- the ships grew closer, humming in the deafening quiet. He laid on his stomach, blocking himself from the sight of the strip, but just barely. It grew _ever _nearer, disturbing the sand. Grains flew up, biting his nose and cheeks and eyes. Blinking it away, he focused hard on the ship hovering over him._

Crusher caught his gaze, flashing him a soft smile. He watched as her eyes averted back to the cliff, a reminiscent look covering her features. A shadow of a smile regaled his own features as he looked back at it, but he knew his homesickness overshadowed the feeling.

His eyes returned to the horizon, scanning it once again. It still looked calm and clear, but he was still worried about it. He didn't trust it to stay that way for much longer.

Looking around the shuttle once again, he easily spotted the last of his crew. Kent stood awkwardly draped in the thin robes, holding them around his face. After six months, he had yet to adapt as quickly as he and Crusher had to the planet. The food he managed to choke down, though he protested- if not with words, then with his actions. He had trouble wearing the clothes, and only did so because he got too hot in his uniform. He had never learned to establish dialogue with anyone outside the engineers, though Riker supposed that he never had much time to spend with any of the others.

Another gust of wind made Riker robes shudder against his body and nearly forced him to the ground. When the wind calmed, he took shaky steps through the sand over to the rest of the group. Gemi stood at the head of it, Kelnor by his side, scanning the horizon as Riker had been. Three others had followed, all of whom had taken positions around the shuttle.

_A sharp blast exploded from the ship, sailing by Riker, making him feel the burn moments before e head the projectile collide with his shuttle. He bowed his head quickly, seeking the crude protection out of instinct. He looked back in time to see a second shot fired. He ducked. _

_An explosion shuddered the Earth around him. The Yenyarians opened fire on the ship. Riker searched around himself, almost desperately._

Riker smiled his thanks to Gemi, taking the man's offer hand. "Perhaps our paths will one day cross again."

Riker bowed his head. "I hope they do." Gemi smiled back, bow his head in return. "Kelnor, it's been a pleasure." The man nodded gruffly before returning to his job.

Riker sighed, glancing the landscape over once again. "You must go quickly. The first sun shall rise soon. Hurry."

"Thank-you for everything, again, Gemi." The Yenyarian bowed his head again, before ushering them inside their shuttle. Kent was already inside starting the engines by the time Riker had entered. He jumped into the pilot's seat as Crusher sank into the seat behind him.

"_Enterprise_, here we come."

/-/-/-/

/- _**A Few Days Later**_

Will had flown hundreds of shuttled before, and had done so many times under fire of other perilous conditions, but never in his life had he experienced something quite like exiting the Yenyarian's planet.

The shuttle jolted painfully as they neared the atmosphere, and continued to jerk violently as they punched through into space. The power cut, leaving them in darkness with the pressure of the anomaly pushing them forward.

The power faded in and out, long enough at points to steer away and record a distress call.

A last jolt sent Riker into darkness. He awoke some time later in a dimly lit room with no recollections of how he got there. Beverly was sitting with him, nodding in and out of consciousness. His head hurt too much for him to move- instead he watched her for awhile until she noticed he was awake.

Kent was fine, except for his burnt hand and face from when the console exploded near him. Riker, himself, had cracked the back of his skull, luckily for him the _Carolina_hadn't been far away and responded quickly enough to repair the damage with ease.

Alliance Fleet had been alerted of their rescue and were awaiting Riker's report, which he intended on giving personally.

And while these had been the first things Riker had asked about, his first thought had been Deanna. Had been what she thought about their reappearance.

"It's been six months, Will," Beverly had told him softly, "Alliance Fleet thought we were dead." Her words chilled his heart. He froze, imaging what Deanna must have gone through. "I spoke to her," Beverly continued quietly. She caught his eyes, "She didn't believe you were dead. She missed you."

Will had been confined to his room for three days as the doctors made sure his head had healed properly. Deanna had come to visit him every day until, by the third, she could take him home. The children hadn't been allowed into the hospital and so his first sight of them since eight months ago had been upon walking into the house that morning. Liz had woken just moments before and was eating quietly in the kitchen while Chamberlain had been bonding around the house vexing his grandmother. The little boy had been the first to spot them and had run away, crashing into Lwaxana while trying to tell them. Will's head hurt him the entire time, but he laughed nonetheless.

Kent had been the more unfortunate of the three. His burns hadn't appeared serious at first when Crusher had been examining him in the shuttle pod, but once the other doctors had arrived, he was in bad shape. He had still been forcing himself to stay conscious despite the pain for someone needed to fly the shuttle with Riker unconscious. But, in truth, he had been blinded in his left eye by the flames and he could barely flex his hands. His burns were deep and Beverly had whispered to Will that they would undoubtedly scar and that he would never regain natural sight in his eye. With surgery, his hands were healed and his skin fixed, though the affected areas were discolored. They couldn't return his sight.

Beverly had been released from the hospital earlier than both of them- the first day they had been on Betazed- and Deanna had of course invited her to spend a few days in one of the guest bedrooms. While Beverly had tried to decline and go to one of the Alliance Fleet complexes, Deanna had forced her to stay, blackmailing her with the children and promise of plenty of girl talk. Beverly couldn't resist.

That was why, after three days of an infirmary and doctors poking and prodding him, Will was taking a leisurely stroll through the Troi gardens with Beverly on spring Betazed day trying to urge her to stay for another few days. "Are you sure you won't spend a few more days?"

"I've imposed on you long enough. Enjoy your time with your family, Will. You haven't seen them-"

"You haven't seen them either. And you're hardly imposing- have you looked at this house in a while?"

Beverly cracked a smile, laughing even as she shook her head. "Will, you know we both have to return to _Enterprise_ eventually… you're just lucky you get to stay here a little longer to catch up with your other duties."

"Yeah, lucky," he said dryly, rolling his eyes to complete the effect of the young child.

"Paperwork is worth spending time on Betazed."

"Yeah," he said with a sigh. But, even as depressed as his voice implied, she could easily see the glowing of happiness in his eyes. He started to grin, making her laugh again as they approached the patio. "Is it just me, or is it still really cold?"

"It's just the two of us, Will." He chuckled while she groaned. It had taken time, but the three Alliance officers had grown used to the heat. And now, standing on one of the most notably hot planets of the Alliance, they found it was far colder than they found comfortable. Will hadn't stopped complaining about it and fearing that he would loose his toleration of his Alaska.

They wound their way around the garden path, stepping up onto the patio deck where Deanna was still sitting, just as they had left her. Lwaxana, however, had joined her at some point after they left having apparently returned from work. She sipped quietly on her tea, reclining in the swing. Will glanced between the two when he heard no sound, knowing instantly from Deanna's face that they were communicating telepathically. Deanna, he knew, preferred oral speech, especially around the children. Lwaxana, on the other hand, had pride in her heritage and spoke telepathically almost constantly. Even to Will at times.

"Daddy! Look!" His eyes darted immediately away from the silent scene to see his daughter running up to him, Chamberlain behind her. He, however, bypassed them, running up to his mother.

Will grinned broadly at her little girl, squatting down to her level. "What do you have there?"

"It's called a Tin'zar."

"Yeah. Where'd you find it?"

"Over that!" She pointed a finger off into the garden. Will didn't look, knowing already where she had been for he had planted them years ago with Deanna. Instead he smiled at Liz. She had grown at least six centimeters while he was gone- probably more. She had some how convinced her mother to cut her hair, leaving the strands only shoulder length and curly and her bangs were now long enough to fall in her eyes. She brushed them away, staring up at her father with big, round blue eyes. Will melted under her smile. "I can show you."

He chuckled. "Maybe later, hone. Okay?"

"Okay." Liz smiled and skipped back to the table, presenting the flower to her brother. God the boy had grown, too. He was almost six, and came nearly up to Will's hips. His grammar and vocabulary had grown spectacularly- the last time Will had spoken with him his cheeks were still round with baby fat and his words were slurred and still babyish. But now, looking at the boy sitting in Deanna's lap, he saw the formation of a handsome young man. He had already lost most stomach fat and was a skinny little thing. His cheeks, too, had started to shape and Will could tell he would inherit Deanna's cheekbones. As a teen, he would gain her regal beauty. He even had her brown eyes. Only a _shock_ of black hair seemed to be _donated_ from Will.

He shook his head, returning his focus to Beverly. "When are you leaving?"

"Tomorrow morning."

"The _Carolina_ taking you to DS9?"

"Yeah," she said with a short nod.

"Good, good." They both fell quiet. Will's eyes wandered away as his hands folded behind his back. "You sure you won't stay for dinner."

She shook her head. "I have a few things to finish up before we leave."

"Right." He sighed. "How is Kent doing?"

"He'll be fine."

"That's good."

"They're sending him to Vulcan in a few days where they'll be more equipped to help him."

"With his sight?"

"Yeah. Should be able to come back to duty in… six or seven months."

"Yeah," Will drawled out, sighing as he did so. "Should go see him before that."

"Yeah… I was going to do that tonight." Will nodded. "I'd best be going." He just nodded again.

Deanna looked up from her seat, coming out of her conversation with Lwaxana long enough to hear the end of Beverly's sentence. "You're leaving already?"

Beverly nodded soberly. "I'm afraid so. It was so good seeing you and the kids again."

Deanna smiled, picking Chamberlain up and setting him back on the ground as she stood. He looked up at her, his agitation quickly replaced as her attention was drawn away by a colorful bird fluttering by. The boy laughed, pointing at the bird, calling to Liz, telling her to look. Liz smiled at it before pulling her grandmother away with her. Will shoved his hands into his pockets- part for warmth and part for comfort- as he continued to watch his son. He didn't even notice that all the others had left- Deanna walking Beverly out. Chamberlain, it seemed, hadn't either.

He laughed and followed the bird to the Ibis Tree. Turning, he searched for someone, her smile fading when he saw that his mother and grandmother had disappeared from his sight. His amusement completely faded when his eyes landed on Will standing and watching him.

Will smiled at him, taking a few steps toward him. "What did you find, Chambers?"

He looked back up at the bird hiding in the tree, then weary eyes turned back onto Will. "Where da'na and gamma?"

"They'll be right back. What's up there?"

"A Imza," he said slowly, eyes staring and voice hesitant. Will bid his wince, forcing down the pain at realizing how much of a stranger he was to his son. He sighed, looking down. He had four days to get to know the boy, then he would leave again. Looking up, he caught Chamberlain's _untrusting_ eyes, the pain burning through his heart.

"Chambe! Come see!" Liz yelled from the other side of the patio. Chamberlain glanced back at Will, the sprinted off to be with his sister. Will sighed, rubbing his face before joining Deanna in the house.

/-/-/-/ 

/- **_A Week Later _**

With a sigh, he straightened, tugging down the bottom of his uniform. Then he readjusted the collar, pulling it out before fixing it again. Will looked himself over in the mirror, shifting his shoulders as he tried to get comfortable in the soft material again. Months in the hot desert had made the fine silk like course material against his skin and a simple week home had done nothing to alleviate the roughness.

The doorchime sounded, returning Riker's mind to where he was and the time. He glanced over his quarters, surprised that nothing in them had been touched in nearly half a year. Neither Admiral Keshna nor Data had taken them as their own while he was away. That surprised him, though he didn't doubt that Data would have found it difficult to replace him.

The door opened on its own volition, revealing the android himself standing there waiting patiently for Riker to join him. His face showed nothing of the anxiety Riker could see hidden beneath the yellow orbs.

"I thought you were still on duty?"

The android shook his head quickly, stepping aside to allow Riker to exit. He started walking, leaving Riker no option but to follow behind him. "I gave command to Commander Byron. We received an urgent message to join Captain Sisko and the others on Deep Space Nine."

"What for?"

"He did not say," Data said with a shake of the head as Riker lead the way down the corridor and into a turbolift. "Captain Kira vaguely mentioned, however, that scout ships picked up something and that Captain Sisko wishes us to hear it."

Riker nodded tersely, staring forward as the doors opened to reveal the transporter room just down the hall. "Nothing else? Nothing about what they picked up?"

"Are picking up." Riker shot him a look, one that Data seemed to either not notice or had grown accustom to seeing for the android made no reaction to it. "They are still transmitting, hence the urgency in our arrival."

Riker stepped onto the transporter pad without hesitation, spinning on his heels before nodding to the transporter technician. He nearly smiled just before he felt the familiar tug at his stomach and the sudden pull that accompanied it. He felt as if he had never left the action, never lost his footing within the circle.

The world reappeared around him in the shape of Deep Space Nine's conference room. It took a few more seconds before the room shaped itself properly, the people within it coming into perspective and the tingling dissipating. A moment later he blinked, then cleared his thoughts. His eyes glanced around, falling immediately back into old habits. He took in the room, then the people. Captain Sisko and the _Defiant's_ Captain Kira were off in the corner, surrounded by several other Captains from the surrounding ships.

He approached them, thankful that barely any of them paid attention to his higher rank. Leaning in, he listened closely to the scrambled words, creasing his brow in concentration as he tried to decipher the many words. As he listened, he realized that not all of it was English. Some words were another language, probably too scrambled for the translator to properly translate. He listened closer between the recognizable sentences, realizing it to be Cardassian.

Immediately his attention snapped to Data. The android was staring at the floor, his head cocked to the side as he stood a respectable distance away listening. It seemed that he would have a better time understanding the entirety of the conversation.

Riker looked back, letting his eyes wander around the faces as he listened. He noticed almost immediately Captain Jayton. He was standing with his palms flat on the table as he leaned forward. His face was one of intense concentration. His face was become wrinkled, both with stress and age, and his hair was now streaked with grey rather than simply dusted. Riker looked him over, wondering if he had changed that much since the beginning.

His eyes roamed again, stopped after a short time on Captain Ivich. She was standing away from the table, her back to the wall as she stared impassively across the room. Her hair too had begun to grey, though it was a slower transformation than either Riker or Jayton had experienced. She no longer pulled it back into a severebun, but instead she had cut it, allowing it to remain unrestrained at her shoulders. Though, on another woman, it may have softened her features, her eyes were hard, the bright hazel had grown darker with years, and lines had started to form around her eyes taking away from her still youthful beauty.

Beside her, Captain Kira stood, hands clasped behind her back and head down. She had changed a lot since he had first encountered her. When Deep Space Nine had opened as a Bajor outpost, _Enterprise _had brought some of its crew. Riker had briefly stopped aboard, running into the Bajoran during that visit. She was a spirited young woman, ready and willing to argue for no reason. She had aged, just as the rest. Her hair had retained it brightness, the red not yet tarnish with white highlights. Her eyes still had a fire in them, though it had dimmed some with the prolonged stress of the war.

His eyes darted over to her side. Captain Sisko's eyes were sagging with exhaustion as he listened, his hands clasped behind his back, his shoulder slouched. His head had been bald for almost as long as Riker had known the man, and the goatee had soon become part of his features. It had been black in the early days of its existence, but was now graying as well, marking him as one of the aging generation. The Captain caught his eye, his face solemn as he looked away, continuing to listen. Riker noticed that his eyes didn't return to their former point of interest, but instead fell back on Captain Kira.

Riker followed his gaze. He saw the Bajoran woman again, still marveling at her youthful looks, yet mature features. It was then that he noticed how calm she was, almost indifferent. Her face was hard- not because of the war, as he had first suspected. But, now as he thought over the contents of the message, he realized that she most likely was as indifferent as she appeared. It was no secret that most Bajorans still harbored a distaste of Cardassians, no secret at all, but it was rare to see physically hostile actions against them any longer. Even so, that tolerance hardly kept them from storing a prejudice in their minds. And Kira, he knew, had long hated her enemy, her people's former oppressor. He could almost imagine how ironic she was finding the moment.

Cardassians yelled in broken English and static filled Cardassian. They were under attack. Their home, their territory was being invaded. They were being slaughtered without a fight, without a shred of hope, and all the Alliance could do was sit and listen as it happened. Sit and live through the moment that the Cardassian race was thoroughly and efficiently contained and conquered. Riker imagined the moment was happening far quicker than what the Bajroans had lived through.

He glanced back at Sisko, knowing that the man was seeing the same thing. Then his eyes found Jayton again. His long time friend was rocking against the table, wetting his lips as he digested the words. Riker had lost touch with the man over the years, the close relationship he had forged with many of the other Captains from ten years ago had dissipated with the hardships of the war. Despite this, he still recalled that Jayton had grown up in disputed territory, territory the Marquis had fought to keep from the Cardassians. Riker doubted that the man felt much different than Kira herself did.

He looked to Ivinch again. Just as Kira, she seemed indifferent. However her indifference didn't stem from a deeply rooted hatred but from the callousness all war strengthens. Years of service and death had prepared her not to care. Had prepared her to silently realize the significance of the Federation's attack.

Lastly, he looked back to Data. The android was still focused solely on the words, not noticing Riker's gaze. Data would know the significance, probably had since the moment they entered the room. With Cardassian space in the Federation's hands, they would push in with little resistance. The majority of the Alpha Fleet was near Trill. The same for the Gamma Fleet as it was protecting the borders and the Vigolian sectors. The Beta Fleet was truly the only fleet with its majority in the area, along with the few scattered around Bajor and neighboring systems. They had enough ships to fight, but Data would undoubtedly be able to quote him statistics. The Federation would have come with more than enough ships to conquer and control Cardassia with plenty to spare to continue into Alliance space.

They would be coming soon. It wasn't a matter of if, or when, but with how much force. The when would be soon- as soon as the fleet could secure Cardassia Prime. They would then come before too much of their surprise had worn off; before a plan of attack could be made or before ships could be rallied properly against them.

Riker let out a slow breath as he heard the transmission cut, fussing before fading into a Human's voice. As he listened, he forgot to breath. The attack seemed to be over. Cardassia was taken. The Alliance was next.


	29. Year 11: 2382

_Author's Note:_ ::looks down ashamed:: ... I actually forgot to post this yesterday. :( Sorry... Don't be too mad...

**/-/-/- **

**Year Eleven: 2382**

White mist rose from his lips, rising in the air before disappearing into the still smouldering land.

The Lieutenant Commander's back ached and his feet stun, his legs rubber after the day's activity. He closed his eyes tight, blocking out the sight of the ruined green valley, of the deep trench he was sitting in, of the muddied faces and bloodied clothing, and smouldering, smoking ground. Shut out the sight of the dark sky, the stars just out of his reach. Against the growing cold.

He breathed steadily, straining his ears againstthe silence. It sounded like it was a peaceful night. He could hear some kind of bird chirping off in the distance- he knew it wasn't really a bird, it was actually some kind of rodent. The sounds of flames lapping against wood brought him back to long camping trips in the mountains by his home on Earth. Cards slapped on the table; short, quiet laughter sounded from his friends in the trench with him.

But he had learned to hear past all that months ago. Two years ago.

"Hey. James!" He jumped at his name, looking up quickly at the other guys. The Captain smirked at him, a Bolian cigar in his mouth, puffing on the thing as he held up his cards. "You gunna play or what?" His eyes moved to the short Ensign. Then he shook his head.

"Baronich not getting in on Taks?" The Lieutenant teased with a laugh. Baronich rolled his eyes, shifting against the loose dirt, digging his elbow into the ground.

He listened past the sounds almost recognizable as a quiet night. He heard the distant sounds of shuttlepods, of phaser fire, of smouldering ground and burning grass. He blinked his eyes closed. He could almost fall asleep there, even on the uncomfortable uneven ground that was their pathetic protection.

"Get down!"

Instinct took over, bringing Baronich's body into a ball, ducking deep into the dugout trench. He winced at the resounding shudder of a torpedo digging deep into the valley. Opening his eyes into the darkness, all he saw for a moment was the white vapor that was his breath. He lifted his head up, looking over to see the card table toppled over and his comrades preparing themselves.

In a moment, he acted, and suddenly the world exploded around him. Grabbing his phaser rifle, he spun around and searched the perimeter.

The chirping ceased. The campfire-like flames ceased to sound so tranquil, becoming a horrifying death, an obstacle to avoid. The light cover of phaser fire grew to a constant buzzing. Ground exploded, shaking beneath his feet.

Baronich looked to his right. The Captain was motioning for them to retreat. Baronich looked back at the horizon, noticing the oncoming forces. He started firing, covering the younger ones who were trying to run and escape. The Captain yelled at him, but he couldn't hear. His hand pulled on Baronich's shoulder. He nodded and followed, climbing over the dirt wall.

His lungs burned from the cold night air, his muscles straining against him as he ran. He ran blindly, eventually dropping into a small hole created from one of the torpedoes. He fired a few times, aiming blindly at the enemy before running out of the pit and continuing forward.

Another trench came into sight and he jumped in. Ducking some at the sound of a falling torpedo. He looked up to find another man sharing the shelter. He smirked at the insignia on his sleeve and recognized the man as a member of his team.

"Hey, Ben!" He shouted, grabbing his arm. They needed to leave, to keep moving. Ben crumbled under his touch, collapsing onto the bottom of the hole. James looked down at him; his face was gone.

He started running again, stopping less and less the farther he got from his starting point. Light began to creep over the horizon before Baronich finally stumbled upon headquarters.

He looked around expectantly. The phaser fire had receded at some point in the night, the torpedoes ceasing long before. He had expected everyone to be there already. But as he looked, he saw none of them. His rifle held limply at his side, he paced throughout the makeshift complex. It wasn't until he stumbled upon the back room that he found any of them. He noticed the Captain was in the far corner and the short Ensign- he never did learn his name- nearby.

A young man bumped into him as he entered the room. He turned numbly to look at him, but he said nothing. His eyes turned back to the room. Pale faces, bloodied cloth, mangled wounds- it was nothing he hadn't seen before. Baronich looked away and walked from the room.

/-/-/-/

/- _**At the Same Time**_

Lieutenant Svala Shanti rubbed his face as he leaned back against the wall. He couldn't remember the last time that day that he had stopped moving. He couldn't remember the last time he ate or had a drink of anything. He listened closely and for the first time realized that the torpedoes had stopped.

"Lieutenant! Get a move on!" He looked up with a jolt, finding the doctor rushing past him into the back room. Shaking his head, he pushed off the wall and followed her.

A Lieutenant Commander stood in the door. He put out his hands to move him away, but sparred no time to find out how he was. He was no doctor, no medic, checking the walk-ins wasn't his job.

The Telterinite rushed to the back where the doctor was kneeling over a patient. The man was barely alive. Shanti injected him with an enzyme to allow the transporter to lock onto him. Then repeated the process over and over again until all but the dead had been brought to the ship. When he finished, he looked up and saw that the Human was gone.

"Thank-you, Lieutenant. Go back to your ship, we've got it from here."

Shanti nodded, his green eyes glancing over the make-shift building. He sighed, walking away from her. Tapping his commbadge, he returned moments later to his ship. He didn't know what he was expected to do. Technically his shift was going to start soon, but he doubted that after ten hours of volunteer work on the surface he would be expected to perform. Comforted by the thought, his weak legs lead him down the corridor.

The ship shook subtly. As a tactical officer, he recognized the moment as the shields failing. They weren't under fire, but he was sure that they had been attacked just as the troops on the surface. The Federation had surprised everyone with a sudden attack on the area. They took over Talos and Dekari space without much of a fight. The Alliance managed to get a foot back in. Ground troops had been deployed to take back the planets; Beta Fleet was fighting for the two planets' territory. Galios was overrun and Denobula was to be next to fall under Federation control. Everyone knew Trill was the target after.

His unconscious mind led him back to his room. He hadn't reported back in and at that moment he didn't care.

He was dirty and not entirely sure how he had gotten that way. The vague memory of a man pulling him to the ground entered his mind. He stood, zombie-like before the sink, staring at his reflection. His short red hair was standing wildly. His normally blushed yellow skin was pale in his exhaustion. Dirt covered the golden scales on the sides of his face. The Telterinite pulled clumps of dirt from his hair, smoothing it down. His green eyes watched his mechanically actions indifferently.

Shanti sighed- the sound more like a groan. Shaking his head, he collapsed onto the bed. He would sleep just for a little while, then report in. That's what he told himself.

/-/-/-/

/- _**At the Same Time**_

The arm thrashed against her, fighting away every attempt she made at restraining him. Again, he lunged at her, nearly toppling her with his force. Lieutenant Brooke Harper struggled for breath as she steadied herself, forcing her tired brain to find balance.

She looked up, watching as two security officers grab the Vulcan's arms. The first glanced at her, taking only a second away from his harsh demeanour to ask, "Lieutenant?"

"I'm fine. Get him down to the surface."

"Yes, ma'am."

Her hand rose to her masked face. Underneath the elaborate plastic protection, she could feel a bruise forming. She looked away from her gloved hand, eyes searching out what more she could do as her legs led her to a group of patients being transported.

The breath left her lungs and a moment later she found herself in the midst of a new kind of chaos. Patients, who had lost a sense of order or understanding, milled around in circles and straight lines, walking away from their protectors and the doctors trying to organize, tag, and catalogue them. Doctors, frustrated, grew annoyed at the lot. Security officers wrangled the patients into an ordered line only to watch them walk away. Other security personnel twitched nervously in their protective gloves, ushering the violent ones. More officers- crewmen, medics, security- piled bodies in lines, one next to the other, shoulder to shoulder as if marching into battle on their backs.

Harper watched two such officers dropped a young man into the line. He wore no uniform; his body was clad in a tight multicoloured thing, something her siblings still wore. It was an image long ago burned into the depths of her mind. Eyes ajar, even in death. Mouth gaping open, blood drooling from the side. Skin pale, drained of the very essence of life. It was an image that no longer scared her. In her three months in her new assignment with the affected victims, Harper had already seen sixteen like him. Seven more were to his right; some uniformed, some civilians; some young, some old. All laid with their arms and legs tangled and outstretched, their dignity gone in their deaths, their faces frozen in eternal disbelief that their end had come so quickly, so painfully, so unexpectantly.

Looking down at the boy for a long moment, she couldn't help but think that there were far worse ways to die. Far better, but also far worse.

Her eyes trailed away from the lifeless corpse, wandering instead over the lifeless faces of the living. Perhaps there were worse ways to die, but there was certainly no worse way to live.

/-/-/-/

/- _**At the Same Time**_

With soft brown hair just falling into his eyes and Betazoid deep brown eyes, just pale enough skin and a handsome smile, he had been one of the most popular guys in his school. Good grades, a sharp mind, something of an athlete. Everyone loved him.

But as a Betazoid, he knew what a lot of people thought of him. He had joined the Academy because of it. To show them something. To prove to his parents and his friends that he would make it in something. That he was brave. That he was courageous.

He was in the top of his class. Physically fit and brilliant. They had simulated everything he could possibly go through. The sounds, the lights, the problems, but not the fear. Not the danger. Not the death. Nothing ever could. He wasn't even out of the Academy. He was only technically in his fourth year, he was still a cadet but called an Ensign. People were dying too fast for anyone to graduate properly.

They started him out with an easy job- that's what they called it. A stint in the quietest area in the Alliance. It was near the Disputed Lands, but people said that the planets in the area didn't really care about the war, not about the Alliance or Federation. It wasn't going to be a problem. He would spend the last year of the Academy in a safe post getting some experience. Gods, where they wrong.

Two weeks after arriving on the _Olivia_, the Federation attacked. No one had expected it. Thirty seven dead from his ship in that attack alone. Mostly acting Ensigns and doctors just out of school ran the Infirmary. They didn't know what they were doing any more than Ensign Andri Kee.

They taught him in the Academy how to control his emotions. Gave him classes to help him deal with the loss of friends and coworkers. Told him what to expect. Old soldiers told their experiences. But it was all words in a book, all distant voices that meant nothing. It was like walking into a museum and looking and reading and listening, and knowing that understanding was so far beyond one's reach.

His first experience left him cowering in the corner. Engineering was alive with everyone running about trying to repair, trying to boost power, trying to save everyone's life. It was obstructed by sudden fires, glowing in the dim lighting. The flashing alarm, the incessant buzzing only served to increase the tension, to make him just that much more scared. He didn't know what to do. Couldn't remember anything he had learned. Couldn't even remember his own name.

As the weeks past on, he learned. Bodies still frightened him, still made him sick. But he no longer vomited at the sight of them, and only sometimes the memory of them. The alarms still scared him, still make him nervous. The rocking and the shuddering of the vessel unnerved him. His calm was still hard to maintain during battle. But he was better.

He blinked quickly, breathed deeply as he worked fixing the impulse engines. He had heard that the battle was over, but he didn't feel it. The alarms might have been on, they might have been off. His ears were still ringing; he couldn't hear. His hands were shaking and his breathing was ragged; he couldn't control the adrenaline running through his veins.

"You okay, kid?" Kee looked up sharply at the Lieutenant. He nodded shakily with quick, short motions. The Lieutenant nodded back, but Kee knew he didn't believe it. He stopped working, shut his eyes and took a deep breath. Releasing it, he tried to return back to work.

/-/-/-/

/- _**At the Same Time**_

The fist came from the left, then the right. He took the hits, muffling his groan. He back up, watching and blocking the throws as he waited for an opening. He groaned again, feeling the bruise forming on his jaw. Anger flared in his eyes. He wasn't going to lose. He twisted his attacker's arm, flipping him onto the ground. Positioning his body on top of the attacker, he leaned his weight into the man's throat.

"Uncle! Uncle, man!"

The Ensign laughed, standing and offering a hand to his fellow officer. When his friend was on his feet, he rubbed his chin. "Damn, that hurt." He hit him on the chest. "What was that for?" Broya Alexsi laughed again, grabbing his things and toweling off his face.

"What are you complaining about? Those damn scales of yours cut my hand."

"Oh, you poor baby." The two laughed again, their bodies finally feeling the weariness of the adrenaline leaving their systems. "What do you say we grab a bit to eat?"

"So you can regale me with yet another story about your stint on the _Carter_?" The other Ensign snickered, shaking his head. "I don't think so. I'm going to bed, waking up early, and then standing for six hours as I watch absolutely nothing. Sorry, we can't all be big shots like you with all that experience under our belts."

Alexsi shook his head. "Fine, have it your way. I'm gonna hang around here, I guess."

"See ya later." Alexsi nodded and his friend walked off. He shook out his arms, cracking his neck, preparing for his normal workout- a series of different katas strung together, mixing Human, Vulcan, Trill, Vigolian, and a little Klingon maneuvers together.

He did it for show. While he was known for being at the top of his class in everything tactical related while at the Academy, he was also known for making up some of the craziest tall-tales and telling them to the younger officers. Everything about him screamed ego. The way he spiked up his short black and blue hair. It was a new style on Vigo for the rising stars of the Alliance planet. His off duty clothes reflected his wealth. Most people thought he was an ass, but that didn't mean he wasn't sharp.

He liked to tell stories about his time on the _Carter_. How brave he was. How courageous. How he saved some guy on the crew once. He especially liked to tell that one, and as often as he could, making it more and more graphic with every telling. But people listened.

He had been serving in Talos space when the Federation attacked. He was injured during the battle- another tale he often retold endlessly- and had been reassigned to the border to recuperate.

Alexsi finished off his workout with several quick punches, moving agilely in circles, then ended with a bow. He yawned, rubbing his eyes. Work hours seemed to drag on, but he never felt as if he had enough time afterwards.

"Ensign Alexsi?"

He looked up, squinting, changing his eyes to see the figure in the distance. The Lieutenant was unfamiliar, but that didn't mean he wasn't a member of the ship. "Yeah?" he called over to the Lieutenant.

"You've got new orders," the Lieutenant said as he walked into the exercise room.

"Orders?"

"You're being reassigned. Epsilon Fleet."

/-/-/-/

/- _**At the Same Time**_

Riker leaned back into his desk chair, sighing and rubbing his eyes when he heard the door chime. He looked up, waiting for the doors to slide open. When they did, they revealed the slim figure of an Alliance Captain. Riker looked him over, taking in his light hair and dark eyes before noticing his fraying uniform and the patches of dirt on the arms and chest. Finally his eyes rested on the smudge along his jawline. He was in his thirties and had obviously received the promotion due to the death of his own Captain. It took Riker a moment before he realized the truth of that thought.

"Admiral Riker," the man said with the slightest of nods and the faintest southern drawls.

"Captain Griffin?" The man confirmed his name with a bow of his head. "What can I do for you?"

"Well," he said with a sigh as he walked to the front of Riker's desk, "I want Captain Data."

"You want Data? For what?"

Griffin wet his lips, rolling his tongue over ending by biting his bottom lip. He glanced around the room; his skittish motion revealing to Riker that it was a nervous gesture. "I've heard… around," he said with an awkward cocking of his head, "that the poor man has some… people not so eager about him having his own command."

"He has one. Here on _Enterprise_."

"Yes, he's the Captain. But," Griffin sighed, looking around the room once again, "he's not the one sitting in the Ready Room. He's also not the highest ranking officer here. He's also not the one everyone thinks really calls the shots, if you know what I mean."

Griffin met Riker's gaze as he said his final sentence. The man stared at him, his look bordering on a glare. With a sigh, he looked down and pushed his chair back. He stood and walked around his desk. "You know, I know better than most people the kind of prejudice Data has against him. Maybe even more than Data does, but he's the Captain of this ship and I don't-"

"Whoa, whoa!" Griffinheld up a hand and shook his head to get Riker to stop. "Look, I'm here to give him a command, not take away from it."

"His own command?"

"You sound like he can't handle it."

"No, just that no one recently has been around trying to give him one."

"Don't see why not. An android can handle some things better than either you or I ever could." He paused and wet his lips again. "Anyway, I still want to offer the transfer to him."

Riker looked down, looking up as he asked softly, "Why are you doing this?"

"My officers die a lot quicker than any of yours ever have a tendency of doing. I need good leaders, good Captains. But they like their ships." The man shrugged. "All these people bitching about Captain Data would never have the nerveto get in the ditches. Never. I don't know the man, but I know he's a good Captain and he's good at what he does. What I don't know is whether or not he has any pride- an ego, I mean. If he's the kind of guy who wants to show up those arrogant bastards." Riker looked away for a moment. It struck him that he didn't really know. Data had never struck him as having any sort of an ego, but that was just Data. Maybe he didn't know how, maybe he was innocent enough not to realize that it was an integral part of Human nature. "He'll command his own team."

"In Epsilon Fleet?" Riker's voice was harsh, disdainful. But when he caught Griffin's eyes- the man's face reeking of offence- his face softened and his head bowed in apology. "Foot soldiers?" was his quiet query.

"Guess you could call us that."

Riker nodded thoughtfully. "I have no real say in any of this, you know that, right?"

"But as his direct commanding officer, you do have to approve the transfer."

"You know that's not what I meant." Griffin shrugged; Riker shook his head. "I'll call him. He should be on the bridge by now." Griffin nodded, clasping his hands in front of him as he waited for Riker to return to his desk. Pressing the intercom button, he called for the android.

"_Yes, Admiral?"_

"Could you come into my Ready Room?"

"_Of course, Admiral."_ Griffin had never met Data, and had only once seen a picture of him. He imaged him to be tall, towering over even Admiral Riker's build. He had thought his eyes would be lifeless, void of any emotion. He couldn't imagine any other reason for the others' distrust of the android. He imagined, too, that Data's voice would be monotone, computer-like, perhaps lethargic. In a matter of moments, this image was crushed.

He turned to see Captain Data walk through the doors. He did not tower, instead he stood nearly the same height as him. His voice, as he had heard, was warm. Professional and yet still courteous with a melodious rhythm to it. And his eyes, while oddly mechanical, were not unlike a Vigolian's. They held emotion- a faintly detached curiosity, covered with a professional air of politeness, much like his voice. "You needed something, Admiral?"

"Yes. This is Captain Griffin. He wants to speak with you about something."

"Captain?"

"Captain Data." The Android nodded as a greeting. It was odd. Griffin had almost doubted his ability to mimic Human gestures. There were so many things the other Admirals had led him to believe and, despite that, he still found himself fascinated by the android. "I have a job for you, if you're interested."

The android looked away from him, looking to Riker almost as if seeking permission, or confirmation perhaps. He cocked a single eyebrow; Griffin saw a flash of amusement flare in his eyes. Looking to Riker, the Admiral was smirking so subtly and shrugging his shoulders in a nonchalant way. Griffin smiled. "So are you?"

/-/-/-/

/- _**A Few Days Later**_

Lieutenant Harper shifted her satchel on her back, sighing as she looked about herself. The Promenade of Deep Space Nine was crowded, busy with the dead and wounded from planets near by. Doctors rushed around the open hallways and, nearly lost in the moment, she felt compelled to join them.

She walked around them, twisting through the bunks, trying to avoid looking down at the faces. It had been a long time since she had been confronted by plasma burns and phaser wounds; she had been working on Betazoid with those infected for far too long.

But it didn't take long for her eyes betrayed her. They began to roam, and before long found the still form of a young girl. Seven or eight. She was Telterinite with long fiery red hair and yellow tinted skin. Harper looked around, but all the doctors and nurses were occupied. She thought to yell out to one, but the noise would prevent any from hearing her. Allowing her satchel to fall on the ground besides the bed, Harper knelt over the girl. Her face was burnt. Harper ran a hand along her jaw. The girl was dead. Closing her eyes, she whispered the only prayer she knew- an old Vulcan one- and covered her face with the light blanket draped over her small body. Then she stood, turning quickly away.

Harper had seen it before. She had been assigned to watch the young children infected. It was heart breaking seeing a child so void of life. It was only made worse when she realized it was easier to see them dead. She slung her satchel back over her shoulder and marched quickly away. Harper looked away only once more, catching the eye of another Telterinite, only he was nearly her age. The Lieutenant caught her eye, but looked away shortly after, rushing to carry a man wounded in the leg to a nearby bed.

Lieutenant Shanti struggled forward under the weight of the wounded Ensign. The man winced as he was lowered down onto the bunk. He sighed, squinting his eyes as if to stave off exhaustion. Then Shanti looked up, finding a nurse quickly coming to his aid. Shanti gave her a small smile before he straightened and looked around.

He hadn't been sent to the station as an assistant medic. He hadn't even gone to the Academy for such a thing. He was a tactical officer and a good one if his commendations meant anything. His ship had returned to Deep Space Nine with the intent to deliver the wounded from Dekari; he had been ordered there to meet his newest commanding officer.

With a sigh, he rubbed his eyes. Returning to the far side of the Promenade, he leaned over and scooped up his satchel. He'd never had much and knew he couldn't have much with him where he was going. Some of his things he left with his friends, the rest was shoved into the small bag. Mostly it was a couple of uniforms, a few PADDs- pictures and letters and the like. He didn't own much else.

As he found himself approaching the turbolift, he looked up to see a Lieutenant Commander approaching. The man had curly blonde hair caked with dirt. He knew immediately that the man had come from Dekari. His pace was slow and sluggish; Shanti knew he needed to sleep just as badly as he needed to bath.

"Conference Room Three." Shanti looked over at the man, surprised when he called the same level that he needed. He stood in silence, even as Shanti took him in longer. He was pale, pasty from his exhaustion and stress. His green eyes were clouded and he paid no attention to his fellow occupant. It didn't offend Shanti; he expected nothing from the man.

James Baronich looked up only when the turbolift halted. The doors slid opened and he stepped out. The Telterinite sharing the turbolift followed him. He rubbed his face, ignoring the dirt on his hands that he was spreading over his face. Stifling a yawn he looked up and turned into a door, glancing curiously over his shoulder at the Telterinite who continued to follow him.

It was a part of his nature, carefully grown and nurtured by his career in first Starfleet and then Alliance Fleet. But his level of alertness was dangerously low. He couldn't focus ever since he stopped moving and boarded that starship from Dekari to the station. He sank deep into one of the many chairs in the room before he noticed that there were others around him.

One was the Telterinite who was awkwardly standing off to the side. He was dirty and didn't look like he belonged on a starship. However he was not nearly dirty enough to be a part of Epsilon Fleet. He didn't have any insignia on him either.

Baronich looked to another in the room- the only female. She sat comfortably in the middle chair, tapping her fingers against the hard surface. She was Human, at least appeared to be, with tied back brown hair and naturally tanned skin. She seemed more rested than the others among them. He could tell she had lived planet-side.

A Vigolian stood in the back corner, his arms folded over his chest. He looked mean- a big guy with an imposing glare and unnatural eyes. But Baronich had long ago learned to read through such a façade.

The door opened and Baronich looked to a young Ensign. He was green- probably a few weeks out of the Academy. The Ensign was shaky, nervous as he approached the table. He glanced about the room before sinking into a seat.

Baronich looked him over. He hated having newbies on his team- they had a tendency of dying too easily. Of crying at night. They weren't the kind for Epsilon Fleet, and yet the older guys were dying or needed on the ships. All they had left were the kids.

The door reopened minutes later. Baronich looked with half interest at the next member of his team. It took a moment for him to remember his training. Chairs shuffled against the floor and Baronich sluggishly remembered to snap to attention.

"As you were," the Captain called to them. Walking around, he slowed at the corner chair. Baronich watched him hesitate before sitting at the head table. He knew about his Captain- Captain Data. He'd had a few rough goes at commanding a ship. He was an _Enterprise_ brat- hadn't left the ship since its maiden voyage. Nothing was wrong with that, he just wasn't sure how he felt about the android taking command of something he'd never experienced.

Data looked around the room. Two who had been standing before he entered, approached the table and seated themselves after him. He knew all five of their names, had memorized their achievements and their faults, had read anything about their personalities he could find. With a deep breath he looked around them and prepared to speak. "Our first assignment is to guard the city of Ish'rou on Dekari…"

/-/-/-/

/- _**A Few Days Later**_

The _Enterprise_ hummed sluggishly, imitating the general mood of its crew. Admiral Riker, himself, sat slouched in his ready room, rubbing his face and stifling yawns. Riker twisted his wrist, twirling the liquid and staring out into the starry landscape.

He was so miserable, war did that to people he guessed. But the more he thought back, the less he could grasp onto the feeling that is happiness. There was once a time when everything seemed so perfect. He was happy. But as he thought and searched his memory, he couldn't remember how that felt. There was once a time when his eyes befell the image of beauty, when he couldn't believe that she belonged to him. There was once a time when he laid in her bed, held her in his arms, and felt as if he could live like that forever. But those days seemed so long ago. He was merely a child, unaware of the complexities that laid in his future.

His life had moved on, he lost the only love of his life, only to find her again and hold her at arm's length. He remembered those days with clarity, clung to those moments. Clung to the moments when she returned to his bedside. Their wedding. Their children. But no matter how they filled his heart, they still cut such a deep hole inside him. Being so far away, in so much danger. He wanted so badly to return to a time that he could barely believe ever existed. To find a feeling he couldn't find anywhere within him. With every day, every hour, that past, those feelings seemed to slip through his fingers like sand returning disturbed to another place entirely.

He set down his mug, the continence having gone cold an hour before. He sighed, rubbing his eyes again. He didn't seem to have any time for sleep any longer. His nights were filled with charts, with maps, with statistics and numbers, with plans and attacks, with reports and lists of names. He moved half on autopilot, half on necessity. He was in a constant fog throughout the day, and night he stared in numb horror at the shear number of what he needed to accomplish.

"_Admiral's Log. Stardate: 38201.17_.

"_With Data gone, I've officially promoted Byron to Commander. As first officer, he's basically in command of the ship. I only step in for battle and lead the fleet from here…"_

Byron looked up from the Captain's chair. He gripped the armrests in a prelude to standing, but Riker waved his hand and began his stroll around the bridge.

"_It means we have a new chief tactical officer."_ He looked up to the young man standing before the tactical console. _"Another young face, barely old enough to be out of school. Another name in front of a man, a life. One I doubt I will invest too much time to learn because I know the likelihood that he will still be standing on my bridge in a month from now."_

He was a scrawny boy of twenty-five with a tuff of orange brown hair and a pathetic attempt at whiskers. He stood half a head shorter than Riker. He was a rail, no fat and no muscle on his body. The silky material of his Alliance Fleet uniform glistened against his skin.

"_Enterprise's dynamics have been confused lately. This is now the second time she is without a proper Captain, but I can't bring myself to appoint a Captain over Byron. I trust him- I know him. And I think if he has the luck to survive another year or so, he will be Captain."_

Riker paced along the perimeter of the bridge. He patted the shoulder of a Lieutenant, smiled and nodded at an Ensign, nodded again the Lieutenant at Helm as he peered over her shoulder. She nodded back and focused on the con. He sighed as he turned back to Commander Byron.

"ETA?"

"Twelve minutes." His only response was a curt nod.

His attention was redirected to the screen where stars streaked by, a disorienting view for the unaccustomed eye. "Open a channel. Let's hear what's going on."

The static crackled, the voices crying over top of each other. Riker felt himself cringing internally, wincing at the cries, his stomach turning in knots, but he didn't allow anything to be visible. Weakness couldn't be seen, couldn't be detected.

"Helm?"

"Eight minutes."

Time was his tormentor. It past slowly, agonizingly, taunting him with the horrors of war, with others' pain. It past quickly, but only when he wished for slow moments and a break from his life. Night was timeless, seconds stretched into eternity as he tossed and turned with insomnia. Battle too was timeless, speeding by and slowing down at random increments.

"Three minutes."

The tension spiked. No one moved from their positions, no one moved their eyes from the consoles, but Riker knew they all waited, listened, prepared mentally for what they all knew would come in just moments. Riker turned, finding Byron already standing just to the left of his chair. Riker looked down to it for a long moment, longing rising in his chest. He stepped closer to it before he looked up to the tactical officer. The Commander was nervous- he hid it well but Riker had learned long ago to see through such a façade. He trembled even though it was not his first fight.

"Forty seconds."

He turned to watch the blurred stars fade back into the points of light. Flashing lights zoomed across the screen still, red blurs that erupted into brilliant explosions. Objects that were once uncertain points, were now clearly identified as several dozen starships. Riker peered out. There was an invisible line that seemed to identify them at first, but just as they arrived, they began to converge, to mix with each other in a deadly blend of red.

It was silent for a moment. The firing seemed distant, unheard inside the bridge. The comm seemed quiet even though frantic voices continued to chatter in the background. Every battle to him seemed surreal. He felt detached, indifferent. It helped him coop.

But with battle there came a moment that it erupted around him, became real for short bursts. When he remembered to yell orders, when his ship took fire and he rocked with the floor and stumbled past sparking conduits, when he marched through the chaos of his bridge.

"Tactical!"

/-/-/-/

/- _**Soon After**_

A noise to his left made Barclay jump. He tried to calm himself; it was just a broken conduit sparking under the explosion. He knew this, for he heard it often, everyday perhaps. But still he was surprised by these kinds of noises; still battle pumped adrenaline through his veins in unnecessary amounts; still he heard things louder and eerier than his rational mind knew them to be.

Barclay moved on, dragging and stumbling his way through the corridor. They were already a mess, filled with fallen support beams and scraps of destroyed plating. He tripped with every step he took, the weight he was hauling snagged and caught on the obstacles, but even so he could not bring himself to look down at his feet, to see where and when to step more gingerly. Every time his foot fell just above the ground, resting on something other than the floor, he knew by the feel just what it was. But he never looked. He could see them in the distance, where his sights remained, but he never looked when he grew too near to them.

The weight pulled on his shoulder. He sagged under the burden, and yet he pressed onward. It was necessary. He couldn't look, because then he would see it. See the horror he knew surrounded him. He couldn't stop, because then he would be too scared to start again. He couldn't slow, couldn't stop, couldn't look down. So he tripped and floundered and forced breath in and out of his lungs because he had to.

Barclay turned into a new, previously unseen corridor. It was much like the last. Littered with dead things. Dead conduits, charred plating that couldn't be reused, dead… dead things.

He shifted the weight, pulling it with him. The ship rocked, sparks flew too close to his right ear, another beam strained and shifted. Barclay grimaced, shaking and holding back his fear. It echoed off the walls around him. He wasn't used to what he was doing, wasn't used to being anywhere but the open space of engineering.

The ship groaned and so did the weight clutching so firmly to his shoulder. The weight pulled at his neck, tearing the skin gently but not ripping it. His shoulder was numb and his legs had long since started to burn. He was tired and wanted to stop and rest. But he continued on.

As he moved down the hall, everything slowly became obscure, harder to see as the hallway became covered in a thin layer of smoke. He blinked hard; his eyes were starting to burn. He coughed, his breathing becoming even more laboured and he struggled to get enough air to fuel his body.

"Stop!"

Barclay jumped at the hoarse order. He looked down at the weight he carried through the halls, surprised by the sudden words coming from the man. "Commander?"

"Stop. On the right. A… plasma leak. Fix-" his ragged breath quickly turned to ragged coughing, his body convulsing.

Barclay wet his lips carefully as he tried to continue helping Commander LaForge to remain standing. He looked over his commanding officer and friend, noticing how much worse he looked. He was paler; his uniform was soaked through with blood. "You have to get to Sickbay."

"And you have to fix that leak before it spreads all over this level and we can't contain it."

Barclay looked back, his watery eyes having trouble finding what Geordie's could easily see. It suddenly dawned on him that he had no tools of any sort with him.

"Take a thin shard of metal. Use part… tear some of your shirt… wrap it around your hand… pull out the… the-" another spasm of coughs raked his body. Barclay nodded as he surveyed the floor around his feet. It was the first time he had looked down. Slowly he nodded.

"Yes, yes. The plasma conduit runs right through… Okay, I'm going to have to sit you down." Geordie nodded. He moaned, though Barclay knew he was trying to hide his pain. His body fell along the wall, though Barclay was carefully to keep him from catching his back against anything.

"Over there." Geordie's hand weakly lifted away from his body to gesture off a meter down the corridor. Barclay scrambled over there to find the fallen piece of mangled metal. It was thin enough. His eyes wandered back to Geordie. The engineer was wincing in pain, but his focus was squarely on Barclay. More nervous under the pressure, he went to work, ripping his sleeve from its seams to cover his bare hand. He winced harshly as the steam erupted from the wall. He felt the heat even through the tough material. He placed the long shard over the hole, his hand shaking even as he held it in place. The hot steam blew over it. Barclay blinked rapidly, his eyes stinging and his sight blurring as he watched the metal liquefy over the damaged conduit. It was crude, but after a few minutes the hole was sealed and green smoke stopped billowing out into the surrounding area.

He let himself smirk at his accomplishment, taking the moment to rest. But the moment passed quickly when he heard a soft gurgling sound behind him. He looked. Geordie's eyes had fallen closed and Barclay couldn't tell if the man's chest was moving through the thick haze. Barclay was too shocked to do anything for a long stretch. When he found his legs again, he rushed to Geordie's side. Barclay had no tricorder, not that he knew anything about medicine, but he saw the man's chest move. He was alive for now.

Barclay draped his arm back over his neck and grabbed his side, pulling him up onto his feet. With Geordie no longer conscious, he had to drag him most of the way. Barclay counted his steps, registering every second that passed, unconsciously computing how much longer it would take. He wasn't far- around the corner and just down a little bit farther.

He could see it. He stumbled, but his sights never moved from the flow of people through the door only ten meters away. He coughed, gasping in air, dragging Geordie the final few steps.

A clean shaven young man took the burden from Barclay, relieving him of the weight. Another man helped Geordie onto a hovergurney and floated him into the far bay. A woman put her hand on his back. Barclay looked down at her, his brows creased. She ushered him inside. Barclay looked over to see that Dr. Crusher was already hovering around him. He was in good hands; he made it.

"Sit down, please, sir." Barclay turned to look at the woman, then down at his leg. His uniform was ripped at the hip, the gash trailing down to just above his knee. His leg was a dark red and the makeshift bandages were already soaked through. Looking back up at the woman, he collapsed onto the bed.

/-/-/-/

/- _**About the Same Time**_

"Don't forget about your meeting with-"

"Zidana Jentu. Yes, yes, I know. Todd, you worry too much."

"I don't worry too much- I just have a lot of things I'm a little worried about."

"Ha, ha, very funny."

"I thought so."

Pell snickered at the well rehearsed banter between her old friend and the young Trill. "You know, I could use an assistant like you."

The man shrugged. "Eben's okay, I guess."

"Oh yeah," she started sarcastically, "Him and all that personality he has." Lwaxana snorted, thinking of the thirty year old Trill and his monotoned voice.

"Council meeting's in ten minutes. And Ambassador Vala Kin wanted a few minutes with you afterwards."

"Tell her she's got five."

"She wanted ten."

"She's got six and that's all I have."

"Actually you have an hour."

"You better not have told her that."

"No, I told her you'd have ten."

"Fine, fine. Ten minutes. That it?"

"Yep."

"Okay, get outta here."

"Yes, Ambassador."

Lwaxana smirked as she shook her head, watching the boy go. But, looking back at him, her smile faded as she realized that he wasn't a boy any longer. Oh he had been, all those years ago, he had been young and filled with enthusiasm and spunk. But he had grown up so much in those years, but luckily for him he hadn't yet been tarnished too badly by all the political nonsense. As he turned the corner heading back to her office, she realized she had no idea how old he was. All she knew was that, by the end of the year, she was going to be looking for a new assistant when Tayd left for the next step of his career on Trill.

"Are you listening to me?"

"Do I ever listen to you?"

"How am I supposed to know? You're the telepath." Pell sighed, glancing down the hall. It wasn't uncommon for Lwaxana to stop outside the council chamber doors and wait for everyone to enter. Many other Ambassadors milled about, some slipping into the chamber.

"You're still coming over to my house for dinner, right?"

"Had you been listening to me earlier," Pell said with a smirk, turning to face Lwaxana, "you would know the answer."

"So you're still coming."

"Cheater." Lwaxana just gave a wicked smirk, glancing over at the growing gathering of Ambassadors and their aids. "So is this Mr. Homn making it from scratch?"

"Of course. The replicated stuff just doesn't taste right."

"Not enough Tritonion to go around."

"Yeah. We need more."

"We need Galios back."

"Yeah, well that's not going to happen for a while." Pell sighed, shaking her head. She turned to the side, rubbing the back of her hand. "Anyway, what we need now is to reinforce the Dekari area, if we can get her back, we might have a chance at getting Galios back and then…" Lwaxana's voice started to trail off as Pell stopped listening to her. Her brows creased and she cocked her head to the side as she watched the Denobulan aide rush inside. He was hurried and frightened; Pell worried what news he could possibly be bringing. She noticed no other aide was rushing to anyone else's side.

Ambassador Phiff stood surrounded by some of the others, arguing good naturally with them. His aide moved up beside him, a silent movement that aides seemed to be so good at. Phiff leaned and the younger Denobulan whispered to him. Phiff's smirk faded almost instantly, and his face flushed even paler than normal. His eyes moved down to catch the floor before looking up in search of Lwaxana. Pell glanced over at her friend to see if she had noticed. Lwaxana's rant had ended and her focus was on Phiff.

Lwaxana had found his pleading eyes. They had been youthful once, a very long time ago. But now their once youthful joy had been replaced with a fear, one so deeply imbedded within them she could no longer separate it from every other emotion she felt whirling through his eyes and mind. She had known the moment that his aide had stepped into her sight the news that he carried with him.

/-/-/-/

/- _**About the Same Time**_

Red globes spiralled toward the planet. Riker held his breath as two ships under his command sped between them. The one rocked brutally under the strain, the other erupted in a fiery blaze. His eyes fell closed for only a second, mourning the action they had known was necessary. A third and then forth volley were sent hurling toward the Denobulan surface, three more ships became crippled, one other was destroyed.

"Take out those ships!"

In past years, Riker had trusted his tactical officer to be there, to be ready to follow his orders. He had never turned to look before, but that day he firmly planet his feet, twisting his body. The young man was shaking as his hands worked hastily to complete the task ordered. Riker turned, satisfied, and watched as the Federation shields deflected the torpedoes.

More torpedoes _swarmed_ the planet, and more ships gave their shields or themselves to stop them. Riker frowned as he looked among his fleet, its numbers diminishing before his eyes.

The _DeForest_ veered left. Its shields shuddered under the strain of seven photon torpedoes crashing into its shields. Jayton's ship came up from underneath the _Enterprise_, the _Fitzgerald_ guarding Denobula from two torpedoes. Its shields nearly collapsed, but it continued fighting. The _Warbird_ was to the _Enterprise_'s right. Captain Ivinch had been injured several days before, Riker knew it was her First Officer that was in charge. He was young- recently promoted- and was sticking close. Lastly his eyes fell onto the _Voyager_. He didn't know Captain Janeway well, but she knew how to fight inventively- at least her crew did. Her pilot swerved elegantly through the maze of fire as her tactical officer delivering damaging bows.

But as he watched the scene play out, all he managed to do in reaction was blink. He watched as ships were destroyed, as the surface of the planet was hit, as his fleet crumbled and all he was able to do was blink. Over the years war, he saw, was all the same. Scenes replaying themselves. Over the years he found himself expecting the next moment, reciting the lines he knew by heart, mourning his favourite characters and watching as the meaningless minor characters were eliminated. Over the years he had found a hardness, an ability to watch these moments play out repeatedly and not break down and cry, to not run and hide, but to watch objectively and see every detail he never noticed as a young officer. Details like the shape of the smoke that followed the destruction of a ship, the way a piece of debris floated away, the glow of a photon torpedo, the shape one takes on just before being embedded into a ship.

But there were certain things he never grew cold of. Certain things he began to notice early on in the scene. There were always two sides- the one that was going to win and the only that was going to lose- and he could always tell which he was going to be on near the middle. It only took five hours for Riker to know where his fleet stood. No, it only took half an hour to know they were going to lose. It took five hours to admit that they had lost Denobula.

/-/-/-

Hope you enjoyed. :)


	30. Year 11: 2382, continued

/-/-/-/

/- _**The Next Day**_

The first thing Ensign Kee noticed was the cold. It was a cold dampness that seemed to have descended upon the entire world. Stretching far out before him was once a green valley, hidden from the civilized world by overlapping mountains that seemed to touch the sky, their peaks concealed in the clouds. Now their beautiful scene was marred by trenches and crates, fires, and phaser burns, and finally make-shift huts and complexes of both sides.

He was told to keep his eyes focused, to be constantly searching for any signs of the Federation. He looked, but he saw no soldiers, he saw no ships, and he saw no buildings.

"You idiot!" he heard the voices moments after he felt himself forced to the ground. Kee opened his eyes slowly, finding Lieutenant Commander Baronich standing over him. "You see that?!" Kee followed his finger to the ground besides his body. A shimmering surface showed it to be some kind of hologram. "That's a net. Keep you eyes peeled or you'll find yourself caught by one. Trust me- there ain't no one who's getting you out of it."

Baronich turned away with his last words, leaving Kee on his back staring up at a sorry sky. A hand appeared in his face. He looked to see that it was Harper who offered it. He took it gratefully, pulling himself back on his feet with her help. "Thanks."

As twilight slowly slipped into day, Harper gratefully rubbed at her frozen hands. Twice her rifle had slipped from her shoulder from the numbness in her fingers and three times she had slipped on the wet surface as they hiked the four hours to their base camp. She looked off into the distance as the sun shone through the mountains. Bleakly though, she realized the sun wouldn't show through the thick layer of smoke and dust that battle had kicked up.

She looked up at the three in front of her- Captain Data was following close behind Commander Baronich, who obviously knew his way through the devastated area. Ensign Alexsi was just in front of her, whipping his rifle around like someone was about to jump out of the leaves below his feet and attack. Baronich's stunt earlier with Kee shook her pretty hard. She'd worked on the field before, but not like this. Never where there were traps at her feet and the enemy with hand torpedoes and automatic phaser rifles a kilometer away.

She glanced behind her, playing with the rifle in her hands. Ensign Kee was nervously prowling alone behind her, his eyes focused on the ground for those nets and in the distance for anyone pointing a phaser in his direction. She wasn't sure how the young man was going to fair out there. Epsilon Fleet was never meant for someone like her, much less young kids like him.

The Telterinite was behind him, Shanti. They had sat next to each other on the flight from DS9 to Dekari- the entire twenty-six hours. He seemed to be a nice guy, well mannered and with a twisted humour that Harper nonetheless found funny. They got along well enough on the flight, but she wasn't looking forward to trading too many stories with any of these men- it was too hard to watch them all disappear around her afterwards.

Harper sighed as she rubbed her hands to get the circulation flowing. She clutched to her phaser rifle, peering through the foggy haze.

It was another two hours before the unit reached safe haven- a large compound sunken deep within the ground. Shanti let out a low whistle at the sight of their newest accommodations. He marvelled at the building only long enough to realize that his team was moving inside.

It was warm inside and Shanti noticed Baronich naturally pulled off his overcoat. Shanti looked down at his own and followed suit. He had never been anywhere where he required an overcoat to remain warm. Alliance uniforms were made to keep the wearer's temperature at a constant level, but some planets were just too cold after a while. He shrugged the thin coat back a bit as he continued into the building.

His green eyes searched over the dirt smudged faces, the exhaustion stretched their skins to a blanch paleness, the horrors hollowed out their eyes. Shanti shrank away from their sight, forcing himself not to stare. That was what he would become. He had seen it in Baronich the first time he saw him- the look of death that had over come him- and he knew he would one day look like that. The war wouldn't end soon enough to save him from that fate.

He refocused on Captain Data and where they were being lead. They worked their way down the turbolift, exiting deep within the complex. He looked around to find groups of bunks cluttered around each other. As he looked, he realized that no more than six sat in a group. He peered at their left shoulders and noticed that units seemed to stay together rather than mixing with the rest. It made sense, he thought. He doubted he would even get too close to his own team.

Alexsi parted from the group on Data's orders, returning a few minutes later carrying containers of food. He was scowling at them. Everyone remembered the days of training back at the Academy when they were forced to sit outside, chewing on tasteless sustenance- gruel not worthy of the title of food- as the rest of the Academy watched from inside with their replicated food.

"There're only five trays," he heard himself say as Alexsi started handing out food.

"I do not require sustenance. There is no reason to waste food for me." Alexsi nodded at Captain Data before scowling at the meal placed in front of him. It was going to be a long, hard couple of months at the front. He toyed with the gruel for a short time, picking it for a while as he gazed back around the room.

It was large and open, no dividers except for the gaps between cots where teams segregated themselves, trying desperately not to get too involved with too many people. Trying desperately to feel a bond to their team while, at the same time, trying not to get too close.

He couldn't bring himself to look at any of their faces. He remembered every face he dared to look at a week ago when he ferried them from Dekari to medical starships. His eyes found instead a man's left arm. A patch shaped like a Greek letter epsilon held his eye and overtop of it was the man's unit name. Shanti looked at his own arm, reading the upside-down writing of his own unit's name. Psi Tau Sigma.

"Hey, Shanti?" Harper sat next to him on the cot, resting her shoulder against his. "I'm starting to regret getting talked into this."

"Only now?" Shanti smirked, returning to his food.

/-/-/-/

/- Recorded In February, _**A Few Weeks Later**_

"_Lieutenant Svala Shanti. Personal Log, Stardate: 38202.16._

"_Besides Baronich, I was the only one on the team who had seen anything like what we were being thrown into. Captain Data, well he's gotten around but he's never been planet side during a war- hell, no one had ever really. Then Harper, well she's a medic and all but she even admitted that the most time she ever spent planet side was during the Academy. Kee was a never a Starfleet brat before the war and he was just a kid. A few weeks into his duty. He shouldn't have wound up with us, but who else was there I guess? _

"_I'd spent some time on Dekari. Mostly though it was running between helping the medics and the doctors when I wasn't needed on the bridge. I'd learned what a 'net was from the men, and I learned a few essential things, but I'd never really lived through them… But when I first helped out, we were waiting just outside the facility, watching as the men went out… they… there were far more casualties in the back than up in the front. It was mines that killed people. Those 'nets trapped them. I- Those men were terrified of mines, that's what they looked out for… _

"_These past months, I've seen so much more. I didn't think it was possible, with all I'd seen on my ship and on this damn planet before… but no, there's so much more than I'd dreamed… _

"_Couple of weeks ago we were ordered to- to evacuate this small town. The Federation was advancing in the east and we needed to get them out safely… we were too late… The Federation destroyed the city… civilians, children… It was a mess. A disorganized, messy chaos filled with tired, dirty, and sweaty men and women… I- I was hit in the arm early on. Someone grabbed me- a medic- and pulled me back to a vehicle. They were grabbing the wounded and pulling them back to the base. I was just sitting there when we stopped again. Suddenly this medic just- he just put this girl in my lap. She was… like three or four years old. She had these big, bright green eyes. That was all I really noticed about this little Dekarian. I guess- race aside- she could have been my little girl. She was crying all the time and I kept trying to quiet her but I'm no good with kids. She was injured- I couldn't understand why they would hurt a little girl like her. I just… I hate all this crap…"_

/-/-/-/

/- _**About the Same Time**_

"We shouldn't have stayed that long at Denobula."

"Tell me something I don't know, David." Will looked up at the holographic image of Captain Jayton. The man strolled over and took a seat. "We should have pulled out when suicide maneuvers became necessary."

Jayton shrugged, looking down at his hands. "Probably," he sighed. Riker looked to him, searching to find his eyes. It was a while before Jayton finally looked at him. Riker just nodded.

"Yeah," he said slowly, thinking back and replaying the long hours. "Had you been in charge, would you have given Denobula up so easily."

Jayton ground his teeth together, rubbing his thumb against the back of his hand. "Will, had I been in charge, I never would have left that planet. You did what was right."

"Yeah… eighty-three ships, David. Eight-three will never fly again. Forty-seven of them were destroyed."

"How many survivors?"

"From the destroyed ones?" Jayton gave one stiff nod. "None." Riker's voice resonated throughout the room, echoing in Jayton's ears.

"We late or something?" The female's voice was sudden, startling both men. They looked to find five other holographic Captains taking their seats.

Riker scratched the back of his neck as he looked over at Jayton, then his focus turned to Captain Janeway. "You got something for me?"

Janeway sat straight in her chair looking around her ready room at the holographic images randomly placed throughout. It was one technology she wasn't entirely comfortable with, but an intriguing one that had been created during the seven years her ship was in the Delta Quadrant.

"They have two hundred and sixty five ships patrolling Denobulan space."

"Two hundred and sixty five?"

"Yes, sir. Ninety three are Mikolian."

"To mount a retake of Denobula," Ivinch started with a shake of her head, "Would take a massive amount of ships- more than we have."

"At least three hundred and fifty."

Janeway sighed. "At least. Four hundred would be a better bet. But we don't have that many ships to offer."

"How many do we have to offer?" All eyes turned to Riker. Janeyway stared at him as he searched everyone's face.

Janeway sighed, glancing down before looking back at him, getting his attention. "Well, there's the two hundred surrounding Trill, the two hundred and twenty surround Betazed, or Vigo's one hundred and ninety. And of course the one hundred and ten battle worn ships that just pulled out of Denobula space."

"Will," Jayton said softly, "We don't have resources right now to protect our space, we most certainly don't have any to go back into Denobula space. Our focus needs to be rebuilding the area; rebuilding patrols around the border."

Riker shifted. Janeway recognized it- all Captains adopted the movement at some point. It was a gesture that meant he already knew the answer he was going to say no matter how much he wanted to say something else. "Okay. Captain Harrington?"

"Yes, sir?"

"Work with Jayton. I want everyone to be sorted out properly."

"Yes, sir."

"That it?" He glanced around. "Good. Dismissed." Two figures vanished before Janeway deactivated the link. The other four disappeared. She fell back into her chair, exhaling as she felt the week's events hit their zenith.

The door chime caught her attention a few minutes later. She looked up, and a short call beckoned the person inside. Chakotay stood nervously outside. She smiled at him, waving him in as she stood. Moving around her desk, she sank onto her couch and Chakotay naturally filled in the rest of the seat. She sighed, "How's Tom?"

"He'll be fine. The burn wasn't too bad."

"When can he get back to the Helm?"

"Doc says a day or two."

"Poor B'Elanna. She'll have to deal with both children now." Chakotay chuckled at the joke, shaking his head as he realized how old their little girl was getting. "But he'll be fine?"

"Yeah."

"Good."

"B'Elanna sent her report. The shields are back to half power. They should be back to full in a couple of days. Phaser banks are recharged and torpedo bays are reloaded."

"Has Tuvok been appraised of this?" she asked, momentarily curious about her Vulcan tactical officer.

"Yes."

"Okay. Anything else?"

"Just that I'm here to take the bridge. You should go get some sleep."

"Nah. I'm going to stay here and catch up on some reports."

"Kathryn-"

"Chakotay," she stopped his words by whispering his name, "I'll get some sleep later. I promise."

"If I don't see you leave in three hours, I'll have Tuvok escort you back to your quarters."

She let out a short laugh, cold and pained. Chakotay didn't smile at the sound like he once did. Times were too difficult to expect such things. "Three hours. I promise."

"Okay. I'll be on the bridge if you need anything."

"Coffee would be nice."

"Sorry but personal valet isn't in my job description." She smiled. "I'll be on the bridge."

/-/-/-/

/- _**Around the Same Time**_

Looking around, she saw what one might have perceived as order. But as she watched, as she kept her silent place in the center of the room, she knew it was all merely well masked chaos in a sea of disorder.

Ships arrived outside her station by themselves, by twos, by threes, by dozens. Some stayed only moments, transporting their injured to designated areas through the stations. Others docked, others floated desperately outside waiting for their turn to be repaired. They were all around, surrounding the station. If they weren't so pathetically damaged, she might feel safe.

Looking outside, she listened to the bustling of activity around her. They were loud by merely being quiet. An oxymoron, she knew, but it was the only way she could describe them. Working together without speaking, none knowing what they could possibly say. In the silence, their tapping, their walking, their mindless scanning and working was like deafening_ commotion _to her ears.

She didn't have to wonder what they were doing- they were organizing. It was their job to keep in contact with the engineers and know who needed to dock, who could and who couldn't. She didn't need to wonder what Miles was doing; he was on one of those ships, probably jumping from one to the next, keeping his mind on a thousand things. Julian- everyone knew where the doctor was. Every ship that arrived had people they needed to deliver to the Infirmary. Julian would be up late again with patients, she had no doubt about that.

She didn't know how Jadzia handled it. Working so much herself only to return to her empty quarters with her two sons. There was so much fear that had settled over the station, so much tension. She saw it in her friend, the way she sat up straight, the way she didn't joke so much any more, her quietness during the days and any time they spent at night.

But it wasn't a new thought. She felt it too, felt it in her gut, in her heart, in the air. The fighting was so close. The Federation would want Deep Space Nine, would want the wormhole. Bajor wouldn't be a priority, but they would take it and her people would be unable to stop the onslaught.

Miles never stopped any more, she wasn't sure when he slept. If he wasn't preparing a visiting ship trying to ship them back out as soon as he possibly could, then he was trying to keep his own station running. His wife Keiko ran the daycare, she and a few other civilian wives and husbands. She wondered how she survived it, seeing all those children and worrying every day for their safety.

Julian was the one she was most worried about. They had several doctors, most were Bajorans, who worked in the Infirmary. They were up to twelve hours shifts, but Kira knew Julian spent more time than that with his patients most days. She hadn't seen him outside the Infirmary in weeks, only Jadzia saw him on his short breaks. Jadzia said he was sleeping, and she knew he ate at least a little, but beyond that all he did was work. Kira supposed he had no chose, but work probably kept him mind of the looming danger. It was why she worked so much, why Miles wouldn't leave the damaged ships, why Captain Sisko was hardly ever seen outside of his office or Ops.

She watched the ships as several more dropped out of warp. Three moved out of their way, jumping to warp and heading back to the front. One ship undocked from the forward pylon, one of the arriving ships took its place. Two of the newest ships hovered for a moment, then turned. More wounded, more damage. It would never end. In fact, she knew, that if these tattered ships couldn't survive their beating, then DS9 would be the next to experience such damage.

/-/-/-/

/- _**A Week Later**_

"Denobula should be our top priority!"

"We need to focus on Dekari."

"Dekari! What's that going to do for us!?"

"It will allow us a better chance to retake Galios!"

"Stop! Stop!"

The noise that had erupted around her ceased suddenly. Lwaxana looked over the table. Every shocked face was staring blankly at her. The Council was there- Pell, Moricz, T'Pel, and Ganit- and so were the major players of the Council of Representatives- Phiff, Norgana, Gande, Jenno, and Neona. She sucked in a deep breath, then forced it out.

"We're not here to discuss the Alliance Fleet's war strategy!"

"Then what are we here to discuss, Lwaxana?" Phiff's angry gaze dared her to answer, dared her to tell him that in the midst of his personal crisis they were going to talk about trivial matters. "What?"

She felt the anger emanating off his body, but she stayed calm as she looked at him. "We'll get Denobula back, we'll protect Trill, and Betazed, and Vigo. We'll get Dekari and Galios, and Talos back, and we'll protect Bajor. But it'll take time. So stop you're bickering. That's what the Alliance High Command is for." As she finished, her eyes darted between both sides of the table. "We're not going to get anything done, right now. Everyone," she sighed, waving her hand randomly, "go… away. Cool done. Come back when you've got something real to say."

The room stayed silent. A light murmuring ran through Lwaxana's mind. She looked up, noticing the closed mouths and the shuffling of translucent papers. They glanced around, everyone waiting for someone to rise first. Neona caught her eye. With a stiff nod, she rose, the sound of her chair scratching on the floor was followed by the sounds of her footsteps traveling to the door. Gande, then Jenno, then T'Pel followed before all but Pell and Phiff were standing. The young Denobulan Ambassador looked at her. She watched the muscles in his face tighten before he stood. His anger came over her in waves, but she let it flow through her. She watched as he left, waiting for the door to slam closed behind him, to feel relief from his turbulent emotions. And suddenly, as if she had been submerged deep within the Melian Ocean, she was left alone with her emotions. The anger had never been hers, but the frustration was. The sorrow and fear was still there, just not as poignant as before. Suddenly it all lapped over her and she let herself feel overwhelmed.

Her elbows fell onto the table, her back slouched, and her head fell into her hands. She dug the balls of her palms into her eyes, finding solitude in the darkness. It was exhaustion, fear, utter frustration that controlled her actions. Pell watched from two chairs down as her friend lost her composure. It was something she had rarely seen in their fifteen year friendship.

"He's not mad at you."

"I know that."

Pell flinched at the snap in her tone. "He's mad at everyone and everything right now. Give him some time. He's-"

"Don't say he's young. They're all young. You're young. There are thousands of young officers dying out there. Don't talk about young. I've seen young. Nineteen year olds dying in medical bays. Sixteen year olds flooding Alliance Fleet Academy, two years later they're out there on ships. Twenty-two year olds being promoted to Lieutenant and Lieutenant Commanders when they would barely be Ensigns in peacetime. Kids your age being First Officers. Thirty year olds Captaining vessels because everyone else is dead. I know what young is."

Pell stared at Lwaxana as she watched the anger grow in the Betazoid's voice. Her face became animated as she spoke. Pell watched in shock at the outburst, but she didn't interrupt it; it was something Lwaxana had needed to say for years.

"Have you gone to any Alliance medical facilities?"

Pell looked up. Lwaxana seemed suddenly calm as she gazed over at Pell. The Trill was quiet, digesting the question. "No."

"Those infected with the biological weapon… it's horrible to see those people. There are young children, young men and women, people my age… Sometimes I go to Alliance Medical."

"I know."

"I don't know why. There aren't many Betazoids there. But there are so many. So many…" Lwaxana stared off over Pell's shoulder. The Trill looked away, the vacant gaze unsettling her.

"I know."

Pell's voice seemed to startle Lwaxana out of her stupor. The Betazoid looked away, focusing back on the table. She sighed. "Okay. I'm going to go take a walk, clear my head. Could you have someone call everyone's aides? I want them back in two hours."

"Sure."

"Thank-you."

Pell watched and sighed, then stood and walked away. Lwaxana sat for a minute, looking around the empty room. The emptiness, the silence finally got to her. She stood, stepping around the conference table, dragging her fingers along the wood. She listened to her shoes pounding against the marble floor, to her breathing, to her heart pounding in her ears, to everything except the thoughts running through her mind.

/-/-/-/

/- _**Around The Same Time**_

His gait was slow as he walked across the courtyard; the day was peaceful and the weather mild, the sky clear and the sun was high. The flowers around him were in full bloom, and birds sat chirping gleefully in the garden's trees. But the gloom that surrounded him dampened the pleasant mood. It only grew darker as he approached his destination.

Stepping inside, he was met with low lights. It was a Sunday; hardly anyone was working. He continued down the hall, blinking as he waited to regain his vision. There were only a few clerks running through the halls, only a few office lights were left on. Down at the end of the hall, light poured through from underneath the door. He only worked on Sundays when he had something he considered important- they were usually things that Ken considered clandestine.

His pace became considerably slower as he neared the door. The President had asked him down to the Consulate that morning, much to his dismay, but he came because Amen had the control. It was Amen's words and beliefs that the Federation Council heard spoken from his mouth every week. It wasn't some hidden secret, it was well known in the Federation that Earth had all the power. And, for Ken, it was understood that Amen had complete control of Earth.

He paused a few doors down and waited, knowing Amen's meeting hadn't ended. It wasn't long before the door to slide open and for someone to step out. He was surprised to see the white padded uniform exiting. Ken's eyes trailed up the body, ending at the thing's head, hidden by a grey helmet. From the distance, he barely noticed the black writing, signifying that the Breen officer was high in ranks.

With a sigh, he ground his teeth. Amen would expect him soon. He would be sitting behind his desk, looking down at some PADD trying to be professional. He stared down the hallway where the Ambassador had escaped down. He needed to get in there, but there was nothing he dreaded more than his meetings with the President.

As predictable as ever, Amen sat behind the dark oak desk. It was a large, towering thing, dark and intimidating. There was once beauty in it, there must have been, but it was long since gone. It was ugly, grotesque even; its newest owner mangled it, marred its elegance with his presence. But Ken hated it; it reminded him of Amen's control, of his dominance over everything, including him.

"Ken, there you are."

"You called?" Amen chuckled at Ken's sarcasm. He tried to stop himself from rolling his eyes; Ken never understood.

"Come in, come in," he said with a wave of his hand. Ken stepped inside, walking a few meters in front of the old oak desk. Amen looked up, but was no longer surprised when Ken didn't hide in his corner. Then changeling never had and Ken never did after he returned from his time in the prison camp. "I wanted to speak with you about Trill."

"What about Trill?"

"Starfleet tells me we're nearly ready."

"Yes," Ken said softly. "Nearly. The plan they've got so far will cut off Trill space first, surrounding and moving in on them."

"Very good, very good. Impact?"

"After taking Galios, Trill is their main source of Tritonion- even that's not a lot. They'll have nearly no supplies. It's also a good launch point to go after Betazoid next."

"Very good."

Ken clenched his jaw. There was nothing worse to him then Amen patronizing him. "That all?"

Amen nodded shortly, already finding the PADD he had been looking at before as he waved Ken away. "Thank you." He stood there a while longer, his eyes not able to move away from the repulsive object. Amen looked up at him a while later, Ken suspected it was when he was bored of staring at the same line. He didn't say anything, and Ken knew that he didn't have to. All he did was clear his throat and Ken started. All he did was nod, mumbling a quiet thank-you before disappearing out the door.

/-/-/-/

/- _**March, A Week Later**_

It was a game she played, stacking the PADDs so carefully, ignoring them for just so long, pulling the right one from the near toppling pile. She was careful, so intent on keeping focus. It was like those awful trivia games for school children, forcing facts and numbers and names into her mind. It was a game to choose which to remember, so many changed hours later.

Life was a game. A game of luck, of chance, of fate. She knew when to count on luck, and that wasn't often, and she knew when fate would take over and fate had been busy over the years.

She hated both of the games, but what she hated most was the dance. It started slow, with breathless minutes or hours of waiting for the beginning. Sometimes, most times, it started suddenly, taking her by surprise and wrapping her in its grotesque beauty.

There were so many sets that she found herself in during the first dance, but she always made her way to the main set, stumbling through the graceless motions. Her costume was always the same, her makeup the blood of her fellow cast mates.

The first act would erupt in a spontaneous wave. It was almost beautiful how the warm colours blended against the dullness of grey and darkness of black. It was a dance the way the red globes spun and twisted, chasing their mark. The way the red beams meet and dispersed against the shimmering shields.

And the music, it came from a variety of sources joining together into a familiar song. The steady beat kept by the erupting against the shield, the blaring of the alarms hastening the rhythm, the softer sparks clanging every so often to emphasis the chaos, the unexpected. The voices sang an ever changing melody. It was one of urgency. One that sometimes told of victory, of superiority, while others of defeat and fear. But always it was one of sorrow, blanketed by a mask of bravery.

And she was there, the leading role, delivering out her lines so effortlessly, occasionally forgetting and often changing her rehearsed thoughts to fit the unexpected changes of the scenery. To her left sat her supporting actor, the man who took whatever weight of stardom she could not handle. And surrounding her was a familiar set she had occupied for years with the rest of the cast taking their places, listening for their cues as they acted the well known scene.

And as she sat there, following the pre-written script and her pre-rehearsed movements, she watched with sullen eyes, noticing for the first time the morbid beauty of the dance she was a part of.

/-/-/-/

/- _**Around the Same Time**_

"_Something wrong with your food?"_

Deanna sighed, looking up instinctively to find her mother's eyes on her. She returned her gaze to her half eaten food, watching her hand twirl the fork, playing with the meat. _"It's hard to eat thinking about how little all those people at the front have."_

Lwaxana sighed, grimacing at her own food. She nodded her agreement even as she said,_ "Yes, but that doesn't mean you should be throwing away a perfectly good meal."_ Deanna just shrugged, leaving Lwaxana to roll her eyes in frustration. _"How is everything at work?"_

"Fine," Deanna sighed aloud. She felt the exasperated groan in her mind, but chose to ignore it. Opening her mouth, she prepared to elaborate aloud, but stopped when she noticed Liz's absent attention and Chamberlain sitting sucking on his spoon across from her. Looking back to her mother, she spoke inside her mind, saying, _"No progress, as usual."_

"_Nothing?"_

Deanna shook her head sadly, sighing in exhaustion. _"No. Some of the original patients are… slightly more responsive, we've noticed, but… but that's really it. No major breakthroughs."_

"_Though, luckily, there have been no more infected."_

Deanna shrugged, shaking her head _trouble_. _"Why would they need to? They're cutting through our lines without the needing their weapon's help."_ Lwaxana chose not to respond, knowing that Deanna would feel her wave of frustrated agreement and take that as answer enough.

A long silence filled the conversation as Deanna turned back to picking at her dinner. She tentativelysampled a piece, chewing slowly. Her eyes turned to Chamberlain, but she was too exhausted to mutter a smile at the awkward way he was holding his spoon.

"The next shipment of Tritonion will come soon. The Council has decided to send all but a small percentage of it to the front lines." _Deanna nodded slowly in response. _"Trill doesn't have enough to supply the demands put on her, not for much longer."

"I think they're more concerned with the demands the Federation is putting on her."

_Lwaxana paused. _"Yes. There isn't much more Alliance Fleet can do. Their focus has to be in the Bajoran sector, getting Galios back."

"How is Pell doing?"

"Hmm?"_ Lwaxana's brow rose in question as she looked up at her daughter. Deanna dropped the fork back onto her plate. _

"Pell? How is she cooping, with Trill-"

"Not well," _Lwaxana said with a shake of her head, _"She puts up a brave face, but she… she's afraid."

"We're all afraid."

"True."

"_Chamberlain." The boy looked up sheepishly, but Deanna scolded him with a simply look. _

"But her wife is on a planet that may well be in the hands of the Federation in a few weeks."

"And my husband in on a ship that may well… We all have that, Mother…"

"I know."

_Deanna sighed, pushing her plate away. "I have some work I need to finish. Would you mind?"_

"No,"_ Lwaxana shook her head, _"Go. Work. I'll keep an eye on these two."

"_Thank-you." She smiled at her children, leaving her mother with the false emotion. Lwaxana watched her leave, training her eyes on her daughter's form even as her mind concentrated on the children near her. With a sigh, she lost sight on Deanna. _

/-/-/-/

/- _**A Few Days Later**_

The constant movement, the problems, the art of finding a solution. She had learned to live in it, had learned to thrive on the adrenaline, the excitement. Seven years of living on _Voyager_, far from the illusion of safety or home had made battle, the delicate art of survival, a real part of life. For over three years, she had lived back in the Alpha Quadrant where it was an uncertain act, meaningless. Battle meant worrying for her child, for her husband, for her friends who were closer than family. She no longer craved the excitement, and yet she was forced to live off adrenaline and nerves.

"_B'Elanna, where are my phasers?"_

"Coming on-line now," she groaned into her combadge at Chakotay.

"_Shields at sixty percent!"_ she heard Tuvok, their Vulcan tactical officer, yell before the link was broken. She sighed; yet another thing she was expected to fix.

B'Elanna barked orders, eyes searching the faces as she mentally catalogues damage. Year with her people taught her order, taught her who was the most capable. "Vorik! With me!" The Vulcan came to her side without question, carrying the tool case she hadn't needed to ask for.

In battle she had learned to ignore things. Things she didn't want to be reminded of, didn't want to have clouding her senses, didn't want to scare her. She couldn't be afraid. She was B'Elanna Torres, Klingon engineer extraordinaire.

Some things she wished she could hide from. Faces, the eyes void of expression, the parts of bodies sticking out from under debris. Some things came back to her. Some things made her stop in her tracks, unable to continue the work she had set out on. That day, when the Federation entered Trill space and forced out the Alliance, was a day she had never forgotten. A day that haunted her thoughts in battle. A day that made her afraid.

She felt the harsh pull of the hands, the cold impersonal way the fingers splayed over her abdomen. She felt the weight increase on her body, the pressure that made her crumbled to her knees. She felt the warm, sticky liquid that dripped onto her neck, traveling down her chest. The pool of it on her back. She felt it all, but she never looked. She knew what she would see and she knew it was something she wouldn't want to remember.

Death thinks it's so powerful, so in control. B'Elanna knew that if she looked, she would see it growing like a dark cloud over the Vulcan. The cloud would be in his face- his skin would be ashen and his voice rasping when he whispered into her ear to tell it was over. It would be in his eyes; he would know.

But it isn't. Death doesn't have any control. It's a puppet, and fate is the puppeteer pulling the string. The black string rose and fell with unknown increments. Luck, fate, destiny determines whether or not one will swerve to the right or left, whether one will evade death or not.

She spent her past years, much of her life, watching those whose luck had decided to drop, when fate had turned an eye to the other soul in the battle and had ceased to protect him or her. She watched mere children or seasoned veterans with a look of horror, of pain, of agony, of defeat, of defiance, of sorrow, of guilt, of so many emotions play over their face. But no matter their attitude, no matter their knowledge of their condition, they all eventually succumbed to the puppeteer's will.

There was nothing she could do for him. His whispered "sorry" told her that. Luck had abandoned him, chance had wounded him, fate had chosen him to be taken by death that day.

The fear, the knowledge of the sight that awaited her, forced her into action. The limp body crumbled to the floor with her urging, sliding its weight from her back. She pushed herself off the ground, not bothering to brush away the filth from her body. Her eye caught sight of the abandoned tool case; she lifted it to her shoulder, yelling out to Kerry to follow her and never looked back.

/-/-/-/

/- _**Recorded In April, A Month Later**_

"_Ensign Andri Kee. Personal Log, Stardate: 38204.16._

"_Death. It's sick, horrible. The blood. The oozing and the stench and the vacant quietness of it. It has… this certain odour to it, its own totally unique stench. One looks and is horrified by it, is sickened by it. But one cannot look away. As if they are waiting for it to disappear. As if it would. But it never does, so one cannot look away. One can only blink and stare on, wondering when they themselves will be the one laying mangled and stared at._

"_Killing is far worse though. To feel the blood dripping over your hand. The warm stickiness. The dampness of the blood you yourself caused to leak from the man's body. Or to feel their skin against yours- to strangle them and watch as the breath slowly leaves their body. The worst though is to watch the person simply ceased to exist, to be vaporized before your very eyes. It doesn't happen often, no one can bare the thought of it being them and so everyone resorts to more barbaric ways, because then, at least, there is something left to be mourned…_

"_I've been told that killing is the worst sin. I was also told that I would have to kill as a member of Alliance Fleet. I don't think it's the worse sin. Killing keeps you alive, it's survival. It's demanded of you. I don't like it, but I don't have to. The first time… I can't even think about it. I could feel their life being drained… but some how it gets easier. I see the faces every night. Baronich once told me to look down at this dead man. He said that killing someone kept me from looking like that. That it's you or him and it's not your fault and it's not his fault, it just is. You can't change why you're there, can't change that you're there. You have to do it or you become the mangled body lying on the road stared at by all who pass until, eventually, someone comes to take you away…"_

/-/-/-/

/- _**Around The Same Time**_

She munched ungratefully on the stale sliver of food, the bland taste of nothingness burning her tongue, taunting her senses. As a distraction, she gazed out at the vast valley before their hideout.

It was night, which meant cold wind, near frozen due, hard dirt, and mist rising over the valley so thick in the darkness that nothing was visible. She had scrounged a pair of gloves to get her through the long nights, keeping her hands warm even against the frigid temperature of her phaser rifle.

The few hours of light the valley saw meant it was time to sleep. The risk of being outside the complex was too great to risk it. It was five hours to sleep, another two before and one after light gave them extra rest of free time. But once the sun had past too low for its rays to filter through the mountains and smog, units surged from the complex, slipping into their assigned foxholes, and waited. Some foxholes were preferred- the old ones that were worn in and had access underground straight back to the complex. Others required leaving through one of the tunnels and then marching quick time to another. Captain Data was new and Commander Baronich only had so much pull, which meant they often crawled to their post.

For the most part, fighting wasn't so bad, but it did have its extremes. Snipers hid in tunnel systems and crawled from position to position, picking off random people before disappearing underground. Small firefights erupted because of them, but they were short though often. But for their long four months there on Dekari they had seen and lived through many bombardments and many skirmishes. They could be bad- Harper had seen enough so badly wounded that they wouldn't survive the trip back. She had seen grotesque injuries before they paled in the shear number of injuries she faced on those nights.

"Battle brewing." Harper looked over to Baronich. He had glanced up at the sky. She followed his gaze. Above the smoke and fog and rising mist, she could see stars shinning. The sight was almost comforting. She searched out what Baronich claimed to have seen. A few points of light glided over the dark landscape, something she vaguely recognized as the presence of ships.

"That's what we look like up there?" Harper's gaze fell back onto Shanti. The Telterinite was paler than he had been the first time they meet. Hunger did nothing for his complexion; exhaustion stretched his face and diminished the yellow blush of his scales. It was a fate they all had met.

"Yep."

Harper looked back to the sky, pondering her time on a starship years ago. With a sigh, she returned to her food, picking up a piece of meat and tearing it between her teeth. She tore off another bite, chewing even slower than before. Food was in even shorter supply. With Galios having been in Federation hands for months, they had run very low on Tritonion- so low that even powerbars and ration trays were being rationed. Data had never touched a morsel of food since they arrived and Harper always had to stop herself form insisting he ate.

Her eyes traveled away from her ration tray, away from the horizon, and instead found the pale green face of Captain Data. The dirt helped him look more human, it covered some of the green tint his skin held. It helped her to forget that he wasn't like her. She had heard about Data before and found herself intrigued by a living machine. When she found out that he was going to be her Captain, she was ecstatic. So many people didn't think an android had the capacity to lead a starship, but they seemed so willing to throw him into the situation they were in. So far he wasn't the most talkative of the group- that was Alexsi's title- but he took charge and she respected his lead. She knew others in the group didn't. Kee didn't know any better. He saw more than one pip and he was standing straight as a board with his "yes, sir"s and "no, ma'am"s. Baronich resented Data only because he wanted his own command. When his units was killed, he expected a command, not another fresh unit to deal with. She understood that, but she didn't appreciate some of his snide remarks he made behind her back. Alexsi of course was simply a pain and followed behind Baronich's every word. Harper thought it made him feel more like an _experienced_ man if he hung with the guy who's been in Epsilon for over four years. She liked Shanti though, and he wasn't too bad. He didn't hold Data with the same reverence as Harper, but he defended Data's name around her.

It was a silent command, one Harper almost missed. She searched for Captain Data, finding his body already tensing under his own orders. He hauled his body over the dirt wall, dragging his rifle along with him. Baronich was a second behind him, then Alexsi traditionally followed. Harper glanced at Kee, seeing Shanti behind him. Shanti had taken it upon himself to be their babysitters. She shook her head, gripping the dirt to pull herself over. She looked to Alexsi. He was macho, he had to be in the action and he had to be the one barrelling in. That's how his stories went. But when she watched him, she saw the flicker of doubt on his face, just as she felt every moment of her life. She heard it in his voice and on his face, but he hid it well. She saw it in the way his muscles tensed and in the way it took just too long to jump over the dirt wall. She saw the fear he pretended not to have.

It was an instinct. She crouched down the moment her ears perked at the sound of phaser fire. They halted, waiting for the fire to stop. But for the longest time, it didn't. They stayed there, to Harper it felt like eternity. Finally Data made a quick arm gesture, one repeated back through the line. They got up, crouching as they ran forward. Harper skidded to a stop, falling to the ground. Kee tripped over her, falling next to her. He looked at the ground, terrified of what he might have fallen on, then looked to her in terror. Shanti knelt beside her. Harper shook her head. Looking forward, she saw three heads disappear into a trench. She listened, glancing, then ran, sliding down the dirt wall. It was a shock to find four dead.

She stared down at the lifeless forms. It shouldn't have affected her like it did. She was a medic, she saw people die all the time. It shouldn't have bothered her. But as she looked down at them, something struck her about their eyes. The sick die with their eyes closed, with a cry of anguish or a subtle sigh of death. A man slain in battle may let his eyes fall closed as the metal pierces his skin. Many fall with their eyes open, staring blankly at the darkened sky as one final breath escapes them. But what Harper saw before her was a different kind of death. They were eyes that stared into one's soul, burned eternally with the fear and agony of death. She blinked, forcing herself to look away. Her unit was already prepared to leave the trench to continue back to the complex.

_**Shanti was watching her. She shrugged him off as he walked past, ignoring him when he tried to assist her out. That was the only thing she didn't like about him- about him or Alexsi. Neither said anything, but she knew they didn't want her there. She knew they felt their male superiority outweighed her medical knowledge and security training. She pulled herself over the barrier and took her place behind Alexsi, trusting Kee and Shanti to be behind her. **_

/-/-/-/

/- _**Recorded in May, Around The Same Time**_

"_Lieutenant Broya Alexsi. Personal Log, Stardate: 38205.19._

"_I didn't know what to expect when I joined Alliance Fleet. I guess growing up with a war going on over you, you get this idea in your head. This romantic idea about it. The things I saw on _Carter_- I thought they had prepared me for anything, but… I never really anticipated the stress. The physical stress, that is. You start by running on excitement, on all the mixed emotions you feel, but then it becomes adrenaline and when you're constantly pumping out adrenaline just to survive, there's not enough to get you through the rest of it. Not enough to compensate for the lack of sleep. You're always running, always listening, always fighting except for those rare lulls and it's then that… that you don't know what to do with yourself. You can't sleep, no matter how much you need it. It just doesn't come anymore… Sometimes I think it's… you know that at any moment you could be killed. That any minute, any second you might cease to exist… you can't sleep because you don't want to waste away what might be your last hours of life… You don't want to waste any time because you know that once you wake up, you're going back out there… _

"…_yesterday, I saw this kid… he, um, got hit by some debris in the shoulder… we were being pinned down when we were trying to retake a machine gun. Snipers were all around us, torpedoes exploding all around us… and suddenly, without any warning, this kid just- just got up and he- he made it to the machine rifle and started to take out the snipers, the-the torpedo silos. Everything… I couldn't believe it… he died, by the way. He managed to do a lot of damage but one of the snipers picked him off… I wonder if I'd ever be able to do something like that…"_

/-/-/-/

/- _**Around the Same Time**_

He watched as it hovered far above the table, shaking unsteadily in his hand. He twisted it, rolling it over his fingertips, watching the gold streak disappeared and then reappeared, disappeared, and then reappeared. His hand twitched under the scrutiny; the black stylus jostled violently. Then he rolled it again, the gold line disappeared, then reappeared.

"We should regroup. Pull back from the system and regroup. We'll make a renewed effort to take the systems back."

"We pull out, and we loose it forever."

He jostled it on purpose, following its movements with his eyes. The stylus vibrated before the pressure of his fingertips stilled it. He did it again, watching, indifferent, as it moved.

"If we don't pull out, they'll slaughter us. We're falling, and falling fast. Griffin, help me out here."

"I don't know. Morale's low, but it's low everywhere. Won't change just 'cause we pull out. They'll take it as a loss. It will be."

"Can we take it back? If we pull out, I mean?"

"No."

A green light caught the edge of the stylus. He observed it for a while, tilting his head to the side as if it would change the view. The light blinked, then shuddered back into life. Riker's eyes lifted, finding the source of light hovering over the table.

"No? Just like that? There's no hope?"

"Limited hope. Maybe, with a lot more troops, a lot more ships, a hell of a lot more supplies, and some luck, maybe…"

"And if we stay? What do we stand to gain?"

"We keep a foothold in their territory. We keep fighting. We don't give the appearance that we're ready to give up."

"The appearance? Morale's low. The only thing that's going to boost it is actually winning something."

"Baylie's right. We need a win."

His eyes glanced as he watched it, watched the colors dance over the surface, watched the shapes blur together and change and move. In some other life, he had known the meaning of the shapes, of the colors, could predict the movements of the shapes. He didn't anymore. He did perhaps, but sitting there he didn't care.

"We don't have the time for a win. We're too busy taking the offensive all the time. What are we going to do? More importantly, what would we do it with?"

"We need to do something more."

The green light fluttered again, dimming greatly when it finally _fluttered_ back to life. Black loomed over all of it, encompassing almost the whole of the hologram. There were triangles placed throughout, glowing brightly red. Purple squares flanked them. They were more prominent, yet he noticed them less.

"Pull back. Bring those ships to the rear. Let them get patched up and rested. Let them get some crew back onto their ships."

It was yellow that next caught his eye. To the right a white light caught his eye. It was bright, blinding. A cloud shifted, allowing less light to stream in. The sky was darkening, it was growing later with every minute he spent trapped in that room.

"Just pull them out?"

"Bring in some fresh crews. The ships on the north borders are bored. Nothing's going on up there. Put them into the system."

More clouds obscured the view. The light grew even dimmer, the sky seemed to darken. He sighed, titling his head.

"You want a bunch of trigger happy Captain's in that situation?"

"I want fresh troops to replace the battered ones."

Movement on the other side of the room caught his eye. It was red, reflected through the clear water pitcher.

"All agreed?"

The Captain behind the table shifted, the sun to his back. The water began to turn purple.

"Admiral Riker?"

The voice caught his attention. He looked at the rest of the table for the first time. His throat was dry; words wouldn't come. With a slow drop of his head, he gave his consent.

/-/-/-/

/- _**Around The Same Time**_

She forced in a breath, fighting against the limiting restrictions of the breathing device. She blinked against the dullness the eyewear created. She looked off to the side, having to turn her head to see Sal standing, fidgeting as she waited.

She looked away, the red glow of the alarm catching her eye. She looked up at it, then back at the door. Her eyes wandered back to Sal, watching the doctor focus and prepare for what was to come. Deanna's eyes then flickered between the flashing lights and the door, waiting, watching, anticipating its opening. Her eyes flashed to the alarms again. She saw it first, saw how it seemed to slow its pace before stopping, the flashing ending. It took a moment for her to realize she wasn't hearing it any longer.

The mask she wore required her to turn her body to look at Sal. The Vigolian groaned and Deanna felt her irritation in steadily growing waves. "False alarm."

"Again?" Deanna sighed through the protection mask.

"That makes three times this week!"

Deanna nodded slowly, releasing a slow breath. Sal cocked her head to the side, pushing the mask down off her face, resting beneath her chin. Deanna mimicked her. "You almost sound disappointed," she commented as she followed her friend out of the quarantined hall, pulling her gloves off as she went.

"Not disappointed. Annoyed. Very annoyed."

"I can tell."

"They could at least diagnose a simple thing like this right. We've got enough work without running amuck at their every call." Deanna just shrugged. "Eight months."

Deanna blinked, taking in Sal's words. She waited a moment, wondering if their meaning would reveal themselves. She shook her head. "Sorry?"

"Eight months almost to the day since the last time they actually used that thing."

"Really? That long?" Sal nodded earnestly. "Makes sense. They're winning, don't need the extra help."

"Don't see why not. They could eradicate the enemy without harming their own troops, making them able to dominate whatever's left of us in the end. Would work out better for them…"

Deanna shrugged. "Maybe it's hard to manufacture."

"Maybe…" Sal tugged at the white smock, pulling it away from her chest, letting it hang from her arms. "Don't want to waste it when they're doing good… all that at the beginning was probably just to scare us into thinking that it was abundant."

"Probably."

"I should get some sleep," Sal mumbled randomly, "It's got to be exhaustion that's making me think about this."

"Yep," came her slurred response.

"Okay…" Sal nodded, her eyes dropped, falling with her head. "I will. Get some sleep, that is."

"I knew what you meant."

"I was just helping you out."

"Sal, go home."

"I've got-"

Deanna stopped, taking the Vigolian's arm to keep her from entering the lab. "You're not making sense any more. Go home. Get some sleep and something to eat. I'll see you in the morning."

"Okay, okay," she repeated, the first word swallowed by a yawn. "See ya tomorrow."

/-/-/-/

/- _**July, Six Weeks Later**_

To no one but herself would she admit that there were things about this war that she didn't know about, but the truth was that there were many. Elizabeth Riker watched her mother and grandmother leave every morning, heading to their work, and she waited every night for the hope that her father would have time to call, but usually he didn't because the war had his attention.

Liz smiled, laughing some as her brother was slashed by the frigid water. He shivered but laughed; she stood back away from Chamberlain and her father as he helped Chambe catch a fish. He laughed, but lost the fish.

"Aw, we'll get it next time, Chambe."

She noticed that he looked disappointed, but he would run to her soon to throw at her that she hadn't even gotten a nip.

Liz felt sorry for him a lot of the time. Chamberlain barely knew anything about their father and he saw so little about their mother because of her job. He had been born just after she and their mother had come to stay on Betazed; their father hadn't come around much, at least not much that she could remember. He stayed for a while and she had loved it. He worked a lot, but they saw him every day. Then he had to leave again. There had even been a long time when the adults all said he might never come back. She had cried a lot then; it was the first time she envied her younger brother. He didn't really understand what had happened and, even if he had, there wouldn't have been much for him to morn.

"How you doin' down there, Liz-beth?"

"Fine."

"Caught anything yet?" She shook her head. "Looks like Chamberlain's the only one with luck today."

"I _almost_ had it." Liz smiled at her brother, turning her attention back to the stream.

She didn't know exactly what had happened when she was little and the war had started. She learned about it in school, though. President Amen had wanted to imprison her father for something that hadn't happened. Three years later, because of what her father and the other captains had done, the Federation split into the Federation and the Alliance. She still wasn't sure what had started the actual war and she wasn't sure why it hadn't ended yet. All she knew what that it consumed everyone's life around her. Sometimes she felt responsible.

"So your mother said that you're going to Timmy's birthday party tomorrow?"

"Tejan's birthday, dad. Timmy moved away last month."

"Right. Sorry. Tejan's birthday?"

"Yeah. He's turning seven."

No matter how little she understood the politics, she understood the real ramifications. The personal ones. Her father tried so hard and even Chamberlain did in his own way. But she could see both of their frustrations. Chamberlain acted like their father was some seldom seen uncle, a person to be entertained, talked to, and polite with but no one of real consequence. Their father saw Chamberlain as a near stranger, a growing boy with a life too changing for a distant relationship to keep track of. She pitied herself for how little time she got with her parents, but she truly couldn't imagine the strain the two men in the family faced.

"We about ready to call it a day and concede to our defeat?"

Liz looked up at him. She imagined he didn't say such a thing too often, she knew from both experience and stories that he wasn't a man to give up. But she also imagined that, as much as he loved his time with them, he felt an uncomfortable reality in how little he knew about their lives.

Liz glanced over at her brother. He shrugged and she nodded. "Sure. Sounds good, I guess."

She took a last look around as they packed their things away. She wondered when the next time he would take them there would be. She wondered how much more or less strained the boys' relationship would be when that time arrived. She wondered if the war would still be raging above their heads. And, just briefly, she wondered if her father would still be alive to take them to their little pond and waste away a warm afternoon.

/-/-/-/

/- _**Around the Same Time**_

Jadzia Dax bustledabout the room, picking up, straightening, balancing, and listening as she went. Setting the dishes in the replicator, she groaned at Ty's grunting attempt at words. "JJ," she called into the next room at her eldest son, "share with your brother." He didn't answer, but she didn't expect one. She just listened for any of Ty's further complaining. When it didn't come, she stopped focusing on it.

Glancing around the room, she tapped the far button on the replicator, watching the dishes vanish before joining her sons in the family room.

Ty had given up trying to play with JJ and had instead plopped himself in the middle of the room with his toy. Looking to the couch, she found JJ huddled against the armrest, an old Earth book opened to the middle page. It was something Miles had found and gave to him as a birthday present. The book was written in English and of course he was only taught Federation standard in school, but he had taken to the language remarkably well.

She smiled, sighing with relief that both her boys were fine. Turning out of the room. She made it only a few steps before the door slid open. Julian had been working long shifts, there were so many casualties falling back to DS9 from the front lines. Most came from Dekari and Galios. The officers who were injured on Talos usually never survived the long journey to the station, if they survived the long journey to a ship.

Jadzia's eyes perked at the sound of his footsteps. They were loud and heavy, rushed as he hurried into their quarters. Trills had an amazing ability to recognize footsteps, something Julian teased her about too often. His were ones she knew. He walked softly, deliberately with a wide strut. She turned quickly, brows wrinkling when she saw her husband rush past his children, turning quickly into the hall. She glanced at her children. JJ was gazing at the spot where his father had disappeared. She knew he had noticed his father's state. Ty glanced up at her but seemed to care nothing for what had just transpired.

With a simply gesture to JJ, she calmed her son and headed after her husband. She followed his path into their bedroom, stirring herself into the back. She heard the water running before she made it to the door. On command, the door slid opened; Jadzia's eyes fell to the steam rising from the water basin. Julian dipped his hand under the flowing liquid, scooping it up and splashing it onto his face. She watched his hands repeat the motion several times before rubbing at his cheek. He seemed to be rubbing as hard as he could at the now raw skin, occasionally splashing more steaming water onto his face.

Jadzia's face wrinkled in confusion. "Julian?"

His movements slowed from their rushedpace. He stilled, the only movement his tired body making was the rise and fall of his chest. Slowly his head rose, his eyes staring into the foggy mirror. Jadzia met his eyes in the mirror. Their dullness no longer frightened her, she knew how bad it was getting for him, how long his hours were being stretched into, how much death and pain he was seeing every day. They had lost much of the jubilation that they once held, much of the glimmer of mischief. It was all replaced with a haunted void. Occasionally he could mask it, cover the hollowness with a smile or joke, but such a thing took so much energy for him, energy he no longer had.

When she could no longer face his eyes, they trailed down his haggard face. What was merely stubble the last time she had seen him was nearly grown into a thin, shabby beard. But that wasn't what had drawn her eye. The water on his face was no longer clear, as it was when it had left the faucet. Red rivulets cascaded down his cheeks, dripping off his chin. Some formed at his lips, his breathing making them fall.

She swallowed hard, pulling her eyes from his face. They dropped to the ground. A green stain painted his black leg pant and she could see the outline of another. Smatterings of blue covered his right arm.

She didn't say another word to him and she knew he was not capable of uttering one of his own. Stepping back, she turned, allowing the door to close and hide him from view of their children.

/-/-/-/

/- _**August, A Month Later**_

Moving through the ranks during a war taught him to learn to ignore things. The way the deck's lights always flashed yellow. The way exhaustion hung over him, clouding his thoughts and using gravity against him to weigh down his eye lids. The way blood felt against his skin, whether it was his or not. The way a body sounded as it fell to the ground. The vision of phaser fire ripping through a ship, the explosion, the fire as it self-destructed.

The things he had learned to ignore far outweighed what he had learned to quickly notice. The feel of the ship's floor as it humming from warp. The subtly jostle of the shields loosing intensity. The small flashing light in the right corner of the console. The way Admiral Riker's brows wrinkled ever so slightly and his jaw firmed when he was mad. Or at least, it used to only be when he was mad, but it had become over the years to mean that he was irritated, homesick, tired, and so many other things. Byron found that it was becoming a normal part of his appearance.

He learned to be aware of the Admiral since his promotion, to know his presence throughout the ship. He had learned how to know the Admiral's state of alertness, but never divulge any farther. He knew when to bother him and when not to. He knew when to ask for things, and when to give the man a wide berth. There were many things war had taught him that were useful to survival and nothing else.

Red. It caught in the corner of his eye. A small flash blinked again. His eyes snapped to the left. Another flash. He tapped the section underneath the light. His eyes skimmed over the data. They darted up to find the viewscreen, then back again at the arm console.

The gesture had long ago become unconscious, his hand reaching up to tap the small device on his chest. "Byron to Admiral Riker."

"_Riker here."_

"There are two Mikolian vessels on an intercept course."

"_Red alert!" _With his voice, the alarms began immediately; Byron didn't flinch at their volume. Riker's form exited his office almost instantly. His eyes glanced over his bridge, then took a look out the viewscreen. His tired eyes finally fell on his First Officer. "Report."

"The proximity alarm went off only a minute ago. We're now detecting two Mikolian ships headed in our direction."

Byron stood at a relaxed attention. While Data had been the perfect model of regulation, Riker had admitted that he didn't expect such behavior. Byron had never taken the words as an insult.

He watched Riker's eyes dart back to the viewscreen. His eyes fell to the Helm officer. The Ensign looked up at him when she felt his eye on her back. "They're now four minutes away."

When Riker nodded, the Betazoid had noticed, it explained his mood. A half nod- something that resembled more of a twitch than anything else- meant he wasn't listening. One nod where his chin fell to his chest and picked itself up slowly was a tired nod, it was seen more often as the months dragged on and the Admiral got less sleep. He had a definite one, a single _determined_ bow of his head that meant he had made up his mind, but often that he wished he hadn't. The fourth was made up of a few, terse, jostling motions, this implied that he was focused, alert. When he nodded to the Ensign, it was the last one. It was how he nodded in battle situations. He needed to be alert no matter how tired he felt.

Byron followed Riker back to the center of the bridge, _sitting_ _calmly_ in the right chair. A flash caught his eye. For a moment, he ignored it, his eyes set firmly on watching he approaching Mikolian ships on the viewscreen. It flashed again, finally pulling his eyes away. His brow creased and his finger tapped the section beneath the light.

"Sir."

"Commander?"

"We're detecting some kind of anomaly."

"Where?"

"About three hundred kilometers- directly between us and the Mikolians."

"Their slowing their approach, Admiral," the Ensign at Helm announced. Riker looked between the Ensign and Byron, his eyes finally deciding on finding the viewscreen.

"What-"

"Sir!" Byron looked up at the voice behind him. A Lieutenant stood behind the tactical console, hands furiously working the controls. Byron noticed where his hands were and what his eyes were watching. "Some kind of vessel is exiting the anomaly."

"What is it?"

"Unknown, sir," Byron answered for the man, looking _then_ at his own console. "It like nothing we've ever encountered."

"Sir, the Mikolians are preparing to attack the vessel."

"Is the vessel capable of defending itself?"

Byron wasn't listening for an answer, or looking himself to discover one. Instead he watched, waiting to see. The Mikolian ships engaged it and vaguely he heard Riker order them closer and felt his ship begin to move towards the enemy ships. The vessel rocked under the _barrage _of fire but it didn't falter. Instead, it turned towards the two ships. A gold beam shot out from its center, grazing the ship. He easily recognized the strength of the beam, surprised when no real damage was evident. The Mikolian ships returned fire, but even as they did they began to back off. Riker ordered the Helm to hold position.

"Helm?"

"The Mikolians are jumping to warp."

"Tactical?"

"The Unknown ship is powering down weapons. I'm not sure if they've noticed us."

"Lifesigns?"

"Only one…" Byron said with a glance at the Admiral. A green light flashed and he looked back to the console. "It's fading, sir. The ship's life support is fading."

"Beam him to Sickbay."

/-/-/-/

/- _**An Hour Later**_

"What is it?" Dr. Crusher turned sharply at the tired voice. With her patient resting behind her, she watched as Riker, LaForge, and Byron entered her Sickbay, all trying with subtle looks to see the unknown alien.

The doctor sighed, giving a slight shake of her head, "I don't know. I can tell you, Admiral, that the right hemisphere of his brain is significantly enlarged."

Riker paused, brows scrunching in thought. "He's a telepath?"

"Appears so," the doctor nodded, hiding her grin.

Geordie nodded thoughtfully, "That would explain the readings we're getting from his ship. They seem to work by some neural interface."

Riker looked back at the unconscious body in front of him, nodding slowly. "Anything else?"

Crusher looked to Riker. "He's blind, or at least partially from what I can tell. He also has no vocal cords."

Again, the Admiral nodded. The rings under his eyes suggested that he could do no more. "All of which would support the telepath theory."

"Yes." Crusher sighed, looking down at the young man. "Looks like our visitor is waking up."

All eyes turned back to the pale man, watching as his eyes blinked open slowly. Grey irises starred up at the bright ceiling, glazed over in their disuse. His face flinched slightly. He blinked a few times and Riker watched his eyes, noticing how they displayed his confusion and the understanding that slowly came to him. Sluggishly he lifted his arms and pushed himself up. Crusher reached out immediately to help. He didn't back away from her gentle hands but nor did he seem to use the support.

Easily, he swung his legs over the edge of the biobed. His body shifted slowly, causing his long white hair to flow over his back. His braided locks moved just subtly from their new position, allowing the point of his ear to peak through. Crusher's eyes glanced over his pale face, the slight bulges on his forehead created small, v-shaped ridges.

Her eyes then glanced down at his neck, watching the flaps of skin moving slowly in and out. She looked up to find his eyes on hers. They were completely pale, both the irises and pupils light grey to blend with the white of his sclera.

"Hello. My name-"

"_Admiral Riker."_

Riker blinked at the abruptness of the voice. It was quiet, but strong. Riker saw the unease of the young man in his somewhat quicken breath, but he heard nothing but strength in his voice. It took only a moment before he regained his composure and continued, "Yes. And this is-"

"_Dr. Crusher, Commander LaForge, and Commander Byron. Yes, I know. My name is Chval."_ Crusher's ears perked throughout the short introductions, unused to the sound of voices echoing in them. It was an odd sensation. With a glance to Riker, she saw that it was not the same for him. She supposed he would be used to it.

"Chval?" Riker drawled out. The alien merely nodded.

"_Please, return me to my ship."_

"I can't-"

"_It is undamaged and my wounds will heal easily. I must leave."_

"I would prefer," Crusher said, somewhat shocked when his eyes immediately found hers, her voice faltering as she finished, "That you stay here."

"_I cannot. I must leave. Please."_

"I'm sorry-"

"_Do not be frightened by us. We only want to help."_

Crusher's brow furrowed at the sight of a smile slowly growing over the young alien's face. He turned his eyes to Byron, the Betazoid standing just off to the side of the others. _"You speak?"_ A soft laugh brushed the alien's mind; Byron amused by his wording. _"I appear weird to you."_

Byron shook his head, somehow knowing that he could sense the movement. _"Just different."_

Crusher stood watching the exchange. She looked to Riker and he caught her eye. While it seemed to unsettle him less, he seemed as curious as she was to know what they were saying to each other.

"_I know why you wish me to stay." _Byron's eyes dropped, he knew Chval would sense the gesture. _"I cannot share my technology with you… though you seem to have already learned from it."_ Byron looked back into his eyes. He was not shocked; he knew his fellow telepath would know.

Riker regarded Byron closely during the exchange. Finally he opened his mouth, preparing to speak even though he felt odd interrupting. "Dr. Crusher would like to check you over one last time, to make sure you're fine. You can leave after that."

"_Thank-you, Admiral."_ Riker bowed his head. He turned, gesturing to Geordie and Byron that they could leave. Geordie did not hesitate to turn on his heels, Byron however paused, continuing to hold Chval's gaze for a short time. Riker looked back to Crusher, missing his two officers as they exited.

"I'm curious. What do you call your race?"

"_We call ourselves the Gnitaek."_

"Gnitaek?" Chval merely bowed his head. "And you already seem to know who we are."

"_Yes. My people know of you."_

"And yet we do not know of you."

"_Worldly affairs of this galaxy no longer concern us."_ Riker just nodded. An advanced race above exploration was nothing new; they had meet on several occasions such an attitude.

"Why not?"

Chval's eyes followed Crusher as she began her scans. He turned the grey orbs to Riker. His head titled to the side, his hair shifting to leave a pointed ear in sight. _"For many reasons, Admiral."_

"Like what?"

Chval paused and Riker noticed a soft flinch in his face, almost a pinch of concentration. He stiffened suddenly, detecting the familiar feeling. The Gnitaek looked away, a hint of embarrassment crossing his features. But he didn't comment on it; instead a smirk tugged at the corners of his lips. _"You are so close to solving the puzzle, Admiral. And yet, you do not truly understand."_

"Then tell me," the words came easily to his lips and formed into sound before he could properly consider what Chval had said to him. Crusher glanced at him oddly, but she didn't say anything, content in the fact that she was oblivious to their meaning.

Chval smiled smugly, shaking his head. With a sigh, he looked to Crusher, shifting his weight and then standing at the precise moment that she turned away, finished with her inspection. Crusher didn't show her surprise at his moment, but she did take a moment to locate him when she turned to announce her findings. "You appear fine, albeit bruised here and there."

Chval nodded his gratitude before looking to Riker. _"Just think hard about it, I believe you will understand. Oh, I do not need an escort."_ And within a moment, the alien disappeared with a flash of light and a whoosh of sound. Riker glanced around the room, momentarily stunned. Seconds later, Byron reported that the ship had left the ship. Riker just stood there, too numb to respond to the hail. He blinked a few times, looking in Crusher's direction, but he didn't notice her dumbfounded expression, too lost in his own thoughts.

/-/-/-/

/- _**The Next Night**_

For three days it nagged at him, the answer lurking somewhere in the deep crevasses of his mind. He had all the pieces of the puzzles, he knew everything he needed to know, he just didn't know what all of it was.

The night after Chval left, his nights were plagued by images of the pale faced telepath. He was haunted by the few telling words. There was something he wasn't looking at.

The chime rang, but his senses didn't alert him to the visitor. It took a second ring to get his attention, a third for him to beckon the person inside. The door slid open to reveal Commander Byron, his first officer and tactical officer. He was surprised by the man, he would admit it, but he was far more proud of him than surprised.

"Yes?"

"That, um… problem with the computers we were experiencing with the computer?" Riker's brow raised, his head titling. "It wasn't a problem at all."

Riker leaned back in his chair, resting his hands on the armrests. "No?"

"No, sir." Byron stepped inside a few more steps, his hands hanging naturally at his sides as he continued, "It appears that the Gnitaek ship uploaded a file that was unable to _connect_ with our computers." Byron straightened at the subtle sigh, twitching when he sensed his commanding officer's impatience mixing with his exhaustion. He had found that Riker simply stopped speaking when he was tired, waiting for something demanded his attention. "Well," Byron said with a deep breath, "We've managed to decode it. It seems to be some kind of shield schematic."

"Gnitaek shields?"

"Yes, sir."

"Is there any possibility of adapting them to our shields?"

"Already on that, sir." Riker nodded, the rush of excitement already gone. "I'll keep you informed of the progress."

"Thank-you." Bryon nodded, hesitating before turning on his heels. He stopped before he made it to the door, twisting around to look at the Admiral. Riker looked up when he didn't hear the door open, creasing his brows to ask his question.

"Why do you think he sent it to us?"

Riker rest his chin in his palm. He didn't do or say anything for a long while. "I don't know. Maybe he felt indebted to us for helping him."

Bryon nodded and shrugged. "Yeah, maybe. I'll be on the bridge, sir."

"Okay." He looked away, spinning around in his chair to look out the star filled window just as he heard the door slide closed.

He didn't know why the alien would give them something so valuable. Enterprise's help had been limited, not worth that. He couldn't help but think it had something to do with the puzzle of the Mikolians.

Riker blinked, rubbing his eyes. The puzzle of the Gnitaek, he meant.

Suddenly he froze, his eyes the only ting to move as they darted back and forth. There was something Her Qui had said to him, back when Beverly had asked him about the accident on his world. Something he had said had started Will thinking but he never had the time to really contemplate it.

He thought hard about Gemi's words but couldn't quite remember exactly what he had said. Yenyae had been a part of an alliance with three other worlds. Two went to war, Yenyae took the one's side, and the other planet stayed out. What if…?

Will sighed, shaking his head. He doubted it; it would be too much a coincidence that they had meet the two races that had disappeared within the same few years. Two much of a coincidence for the Mikolians and Ketrelians to be the bickering members of that ancient alliance. Or…

He rubbed his face. The more he thought, the more the pieces fell together. No one knew exactly how long ago they populated Ketrel, it could have been thousands of years ago during that war. They never did learn the cause of the bitterness between Miko and Ketrel. But Gemi didn't know their English names, it could have been anyone…

Will groaned, blinking back his exhaustion rapidly. He dug the balls of his palms into his eyes, trying to rid his mind of his thoughts, his musings, of his imagination's image of a golden society ripped apart by petty bickering.


	31. Year 11: 2382, continued again

/-/-/-/

/- _**Around the Same Time**_

His eyes squinted, brows pulling together against the morning sun. It was a new aspect of Amen's day. Dr. Keithers had decided that he had gained too much weight after all the stresses of the past few years. His solution was diet and daily walks. Ken admitted that the older man had let himself go over the years but he didn't appreciate that Amen found it fitting to force Ken to join him. Amen had declared them unofficial morning briefings. Ken had declared them his unneeded morning hell.

Amen mostly liked to explore the surrounding city. He liked to show his face among the crowd. Guards followed behind- on Ken's order- to keep away people like the Sklig Ntsar and their company. Amen had fought it and Ken had almost let it happen- what did he care if the old fool died?- but it was his life that followed behind the President's.

Amen spoke often- he was always too awake in the morning. Ken listened, only because Amen would know if he didn't. The scenery caught his eye as they ambled down the stone street, red leafs crunching under their feet. To their left, sandstone buildings had been erected a century ago- an attempt to make it look like the city had before the third world war. A window caught his eye. He nodded at the man keying in his access code. In an hour when Amen would dismiss him, he would walk back this way and get his breakfast from the bakery they were passing by. It was a little place he had found years ago when he returned to Earth.

"Are you listening to me?" He nodded his head, clenching his jaw to hold his tongue. Amen continued talking without noticing that Ken was behind him; he had to jog to catch back up. "I have advisors in Starfleet telling me to slow down. They say we have enough territory to try to regain control of. That we should build up our borders, our fleet, get full control for the Dekari and Galios systems."

"Sounds like a good idea." He glanced up over at the President. "You don't seem to think so?"

"The Mikolians have built up their fleet- complete with specific upgrades. We now have the Breen fleet at our disposal. I think their plan is a great idea."

"But you don't plan on slowing down?"

Amen stopped, looking Ken in the eye. Ken blinked a the action. He had rarely seen Amen's face so void of his inane humour. "Not one bit." Amen started again, moving away from Ken.

The younger man sighed, rubbing his nose as he looked back at the officer standing guard behind him. He tipped his head to the side; the officer turned away and followed the President.

/-/-/-/

/- _**September, A Few Weeks Later**_

His tongue rolled over his chocolate covered lips as he smirked up at his mother. She smiled back at him and the other boys before she left with a couple pieces of cake. Back in the corner his grandmother stood with her friend; his mother made her way over to them, offering the chocolate to them. For most of the party, they had been laughing; he found it such a change from the normally grave faces.

Chamberlain played with his fork in his mouth, sucking all the frosting off the back. Conversation flowed around him but he chose not to listen. He ate slowly, chewing thoughtfully as he watched his mother step into the next room.

He had turned seven- it had marked the sixth time his father wasn't there to celebrate his birthday. For the longest time he hadn't cared that his father wasn't there, or even the fact that he barely saw anything of the man. It had taken a long time for him to be bothered by it.

Until he had started visiting friends' houses, Chamberlain hadn't noticed that it wasn't normal for his father to be away all the time. He knew other boys and girls like him, whose mother or father lived on starships and others whose mother or father had been killed in service. All his friends had fathers, though, or they at least saw them more often than he did.

It took a while for the jealousy to seep in and for him to grasp a hold of it. In his father's recent visits, Chamberlain had noticed the strain in his own words, the way the desire to rush into his father's arms nearly overpowered him, the way the anger forced it back and clouded the joy. He didn't really understand it, it was just there all the time.

His mother reappeared, carrying with her a portable comm. unit. She handed it to him as he swallowed his last bite. His father's face smiled at him from the screen. A field of stars and starships made his backdrop. That _unknown_ feeling lurked in the distance crevices of his mind, whispering the notion that his father's call was an afterthought between meetings and reports.

"_Hey, Chambers. How's the cake?"_

Chamberlain rubbed a stray bit of chocolate from his cheek and shrugged. "It's good."

"_I heard that you got some pretty cool stuff?"_

"Yeah," Chamberlain shrugged again, intending that to be all he said, but the gentle tug of emotion caught him and he sighed. "Yeah, um, I got a new holodeck game. Dmitri and I might go play it tomorrow."

"_That sounds like a lot of fun."_

"Yeah… and I got a hoverboard!" His father's face lit up with a smirk. Chamberlain smiled back at him. For just a moment, he remembered how often their smiles were compared. Then the thought left him and he looked up at his grandmother's prodding. After a moment, his eyes fell back to his father's face. "Thank-you, for the hoverboard," he said somewhat tersely.

A stretch of silence passed and his father seemed to grow restless. It happened a lot between them. Chamberlain never knew what to say- could never decide if there was anything he wanted to say- and so he let the silence fester into the awkward phase of grunting and sighing until finally his father asked if Liz was around. Chamberlain looked around the stray sets of children and ignored the adults, finally giving up and reaching out his mind to yell for Liz. When he handed the comm. unit over to her, he felt as if the anger had left with it and, as long as he could forget about it, he smiled, running from the table to play.

/-/-/-/

/- _**A Few Days Later**_

Julian smiled lightly, joking with his patient. The Bajoran just grinned, nodding his thanks to the doctor as Julian turned away. His face lit up as his eyes fell onto the pair just stepping through the door.

"Hey there, kid," Julian cooed as he walked up to them. He leaned around Ty, kissing Jadzia. With his hand resting on her back, he used his other to playfully tickle the child's nose. His face scrunched up, his head turning to shelter itself in Jadzia's shoulder.

"Come 'ere, kid," Julian said, his hands already extended and taking the eighteen month old from his wife's hold. "Where's JJ?"

"With Keiko."

"Right. Do you think she'll let him start school next month?"

"Julian, he's only four."

"And that's the age Bajoran children start school."

"We've already has this discussion-"

"Jadzia, the Bajorans are smart to have their children start so young." She just glared at him, sighing as Julian laid their child on the biobed. He, too, relented and focused instead on his youngest son.

"Okay, bud, let's see what we've got." The boy squirmed under the soft light of Julian's scanner. Julian spoke softly as he worked, keeping the child calm. He pushed away the device. "All done. See that wasn't so bad, now was it?"

"Julian, I was wondering if you could check his eyes."

"Why?"

"He's been doing that squinting thing again."

"I told you," Julian said with a light smile, "it's probably nothing."

"But could you just check?"

The doctor sighed, dropping his shoulders and shaking his head. He opened his mouth to comment, but then stopped, saying instead, "If it will make you feel better, but there is nothing wrong." Then, opening his tricorder back up and pulling the cylinder from the back, he turned to his son. "Alright, kid, just one last thing, okay?" Jadzia sighed and watched Ty squirm and flail his arms and legs in protest. She smiled as she watched Julian simply going about his work.

Jadzia first watched Julian's hands as he moved the cylinder as he moved it over Ty's temples. Slowly she worked her way up her arm, her eyes resting on his face. Julian's brow creased as he looked down at the data, his face growing tenser the more he read. "What? What is it?"

He ignored her at first, double checking the readings. Then he ran the cylinder over Ty's face again, staring down at the tricoder screen as he looked over the readings a third time. Finally, at Jadzia's pleading, he looked solemnly at his wife. "Ty's… there are… his eyes aren't working properly."

"What are you saying?"

"He… he's not blind, but he certain could regress to that state. I'll need to run a few more tests to find out exactly what's wrong, but…" His voice trailed off and all he was able to do was sigh.

Jadzia listened to his neutral voice, speaking as the doctor his was. She hated it. She raised her head slowly, finding his eyes. "What kind of tests?"

Julian looked away, at the floor, at his hands, at the foot of the biobed, but not at her nor at Ty. "Just a couple. I can do them now. They won't hurt."

He let a slow breath, glancing up at her. He acted automatically, setting down the tricorder and stepping close to her. Taking her hands, he brushed away a lock of dark hair. "Why don't you go get JJ and I'll take a look at Ty, okay?"

"I should stay here."

Julian's thumb brushed away a tear as it threatened to slide down her check. He set his forehead on hers, letting his wife lean into him, comforting her as much as himself. "It'll be fine. Go. I should be done in twenty minutes."

"Okay."

"Okay."

Jadzia stepped back, running a shaking hand over her lips. She looked back down at Ty, forcing herself to smile. A sudden thought struck her, and she tried to push away the thought that he might not be able to see it. Looking back to Julain, he nodded, and she began to walk from the Infirmary.

Julian sighed. Then sucked in a deep breath, holding it to steady himself. Letting the air out slowly, he turned to the tiny creature sitting patiently on the bed.

He smiled, though his eyes remained dull. Putting on his best doctor's façade, he stepped back over to his son. "All right. Just a few more minutes, kid, and you can get outta here. Okay?"

Five test and twenty minutes later, Julian was leaning back in his chair, his hands in his hair as he stared at the data. Jadzia would be back soon and he would have to explain the mess of numbers and graphs. He sighed, glancing over his shoulder. Ty was sitting on the floor, giggling at some game Nurse Jena was playing with him. He smiled, but it was a sad smile.

Looking back to his computers, his eyes caught sight of the file he had been reading. It was about a disorder named Leighsel's Disorder, after the first known sufferer. It wasn't a complicated disorder to explain. It was rare, but it happened. It was also genetic and exclusively found in Trill hybrids.

Julian sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. Trills marrying or having hybrid children was taboo. It simply wasn't done often. So few Trill hybrids existed that medical advancement in the field wasn't as vital as it was in others. Which was why so many genetic disorders like Leighsel's existed. Julian had known that but JJ had turned out fine, it just hadn't occurred to him that Ty might have been sick.

He blamed himself for not catching it. He knew Jadzia would blame herself for it.

Spinning in his chair, he looked over at Ty. Leighsel's wasn't fatal, but it also wasn't curable and it was hard to correct. It affected vision. Not usually to the extent of blindness, but it inhibited depth perception and often distorted shape and color. Ty could see, just not well. Implants could possibly correct it, but there were few causes of that happening.

He looked up a moment later to the Infirmary door opening. JJ rushed in, the four year old running and skidding to a halt before Ty. He smiled his greeting to Nurse Jena before joining the game. Julian looked back to the door to see Jadzia enter just after. He tried to smile, but she saw past it. His face dropped, becoming expressionless. It wasn't hard to explain, not medically, but it was emotionally.

/-/-/-/

/- _**October, A Month Later**_

"Hey you!" Kira smiled, reaching out her hands to touch his probing ones. His small hands grasped hers, feeling them, trying to identify her. She played with his fingers and he started to giggle, recognizing Kira by the playful gesture.

"Ne's! Ne's, ook!"

"What'cha got there, Tylus?"

The little boy grinned as he grabbed the toy. It was a simple game, one that glowed different colors. Julian said it was supposed to help him with his sight, but she didn't understand how. For a moment Ty seemed to forget her presence as he started to play again. She just knelt and watched him with a soft smile.

"Aunt Nerys!"

Kira's smile broadened. She turned to see JJ, the young Trill standing in the doorway. Kneeling on the ground, it was the first time she noticed how tall he was getting. He was rapidly losing baby fat, his cheeks weren't so rounded and his body was slimming. His dark hair had grown into his eyes; he wouldn't let Jadzia cut it because it was the new Bajoran style for teens. Hiding beneath his long locks, she could see the Bajoran earring she had given him when he was born.

JJ smiled down at her, taking a few steps into the room. She noticed the glass in his hands and smiled when she _saw_ that he still couldn't quite wrap his fingers all the way around it.

"Hey, JJ."

The boy seemed to have caught himself, suddenly realizing that nature of his 'aunt's visit. He seemed to stiffen some and his smile seemed to dim. Even though, he approached and took a seat besides her. Kira could sense the change but she hid it carefully, watching him with a smile taking a sip of the warm liquid. Jumja tea, a popular favorite on Bajor.

"Hey, Ty." The Trill tapped his brother on the shoulder. She watched, knowing that he was ignoring her, as he tried to help his brother with his game.

"Eh!" Ty complained, hitting JJ's hand away.

"What?"

"Eh!" he groaned, but he didn't do anything. JJ ignored him then and turned his attention back to Kira. He sipped his tea slowly, almost thoughtfully, as he waited to see if she would say anything.

"So I heard you spent most of the day with your father in the Infirmary."

"Uh huh," he smirked widely, his eyes glowing with Jadzia's excitement. Kira resisted shaking her head; she still couldn't believe that Jadzia had allowed Julian to bring JJ to the Infirmary. But then, she supposed, most of the casualties had been taken to Betazed the day before.

"Did you like it?"

"Yeah! It was a lot of fun. I got to help analyze some blood work, and Da let me use a tricorder, and I even got to talk to one of the Klingons!"

Kira laughed, "I'm glad you enjoyed it," she paused then to push Ty's closer to his wandering fingers. "Are you going to be a doctor now?" The boy just shrugged, watching his brother. "Didn't like it that much?"

"I don't know. There's a lot of big words!"

She laughed, nodding. "True. True." He quieted, looking back to Ty. Kira allowed him the moment before she asked, "Is your mother home?"

He looked up at her and shrugged, taking a large gulp of the tea. "Yeah, she's in the next room with Da."

"Okay. Thanks." She brushed back his hair, tucking it behind his ear to reveal the golden chain and ornate jewelry. She smiled, hoping that it would bring some reassurance. But she knew it wouldn't, that it never had. His hair fell back over his ear. She shook her head and stood, letting out a small moan as her body protested the movement. She glanced back at him once she reached the doorway, making sure that he wasn't harassing his brother.

"Jadzia?"

"One second." Kira turned back around to watch as the boys played. It wasn't long before Jadzia retreated from her bedroom. Kira turned and watched her peak Julian on the cheek. She smiled her greeting to Kira, brushing her hand along the Bajoran's arm as she moved past her. Ty looked when he heard her approach, but JJ ignored her until she kissed the top of his head, pulling his bangs away from his eyes when she ruffled his hair. Ty giggled when she kissed his cheek. His hair was thin and short, but she repeated the action with him.

When she straightened, Julian was leaning against the wall, his head was down and he refused to catch her eye. Kira hadn't moved as she watched the goodbye, but stood solemnly waiting for her friend.

"We have to go."

"Yeah." The Trill returned to give Julian one finally kiss. She let her hand linger on his cheek, slowly falling off the rough skin. "I'll be back in a few days."

"Yeah," he whispered back. "We'll see you then."

She didn't spare him another look when she dropped his eyes, but her eyes did search out one last vision of her children. JJ looked up when he heard his mother and Kira starting to walk out. His face was _solemn_, the smile from minutes ago had disappeared and was replaced with a knowing look. She knew she would never know what he understood about war, but she knew that he knew one thing. He knew that when people went away, many of them returned on stretchers or never at all.

She looked away and back at Kira, allowing her Captain to lead the way.

/-/-/-/

/- _**At The Same Time**_

"And what about the ground?"

"Epsilon Fleet with have teams surround Federation complexes here, here, here, here, and here. The five major strongholds of the Federation on Dekari."

"Will the teams be strong enough for such a thing?"

"They're gonna have to be."

"I'm assured that they are… Captain Kira, are we boring you?"

The movement, while still a startled gesture, was slow and even, as if she had merely lost interest in what had been holding her attention. The Bajoran cast a quick look at the fading images of her fellow captains. She shook her head at the holograms, answering her superior officer's question.

Captain Baylie nodded tersely and returned his attention to the briefing; Kira sighed and returned her attention to her bridge.

"_When had they gotten so young?"_

"_I think you just got old, Dax."_

"_You'd think I'd be used to such a thing."_

Heat seemed to flow into her eyes; they were red, raw with weariness. Dax caught her wandering eyes and flashed a quick, sympathetic smile. The _Defiant_ didn't exactly have a ready room and Kira was forced into the corner of her own bridge to conduct her meeting. Dax reclined back in the captain's chair, watching over the starry field as she waited for yet another risk to add to her long life.

Five hours after they had left Deep Space Nine, Kira had left Dax in charge of the bridge, heading for the galley to get something to eat. She had been surprised to learn that four tables were filled with youths just out of the academy. When she'd inspected closer, most of them hadn't actually achieved their proper rank of Ensign yet.

"The _Mercury _has just arrived, Commander."

Kira's eyes roamed the bridge until they found the owner of that rich voice. He was a nineteen year old Ensign from Mars colony. When he was ten, his parents had relocated to Keltrais. It disappointed her to learn that he had given up a potentially promising career as a botanist to join the war.

"_Do you ever get scared? Like… like are you ever afraid when you go into battle that- that you'll never come back?"_

Kira had grown up fighting in the resistance movement where a close-knit family unit was better than indifferent people fighting for the hell of it. She enjoyed sitting in the galley with her crew, hearing their stories, learning their strengths and weaknesses. The other day she had sat with him; it was the first time anyone had ever asked her that question.

"_No."_

"_Never?"_

"_Once, a long time ago when I was in the Bajoran resistance, we had a rather dangerous mission ahead of us. I was… I was only eighteen or nineteen- about your age- and I was scared to death. Shakaar- our cell leader- said to me… he said not to fear death because the sooner we die, the sooner we meet the Profits. He joked… he joked that he was ready to die and meet them. He questioned, however, whether the Profits were prepared for the ordeal of meeting him… _

"_So, no, Ensign, I haven't been afraid to die for a very long time."_

Her eyes wandered from his young face, to another young face, and another, finally resting on Dax's composed stance.

Since that day decades ago on Bajor, she had never been afraid for her life. But since she moved onto Deep Space Nine, she had learned what it meant to fear for her life for someone else.

She couldn't imagine what that boy's parents would feel when they learned of his death. She couldn't imagine how she would tell Julian and the boys if Jadzia didn't return. She couldn't imagine what Jadzia might say to Odo if it was she who didn't return.

With a final glance and a shake of her head, she turned her attention back to the meeting, but Shakaar's words wouldn't leave her…

"Our lives are made by the death of others. It is our job to make sure the next generation has life so that they may do the same."

/-/-/-/

/- _**Recorded in November, Around The Same Time**_

"_Commander James Baronich. Personal Log, Stardate: 38211.09._

"_It's funny, watching the kid. Kee is- he's still so impressed- no, overwhelmed by the idea of war. The kid's- what, like twenty?- god, he was just over being a baby when this thing started. Who knows what kind of things he's got in his head? He doesn't get it just yet… everything going on… but he's starting to learn how to learn… To live out here, you need to learn quickly. He wasn't so quick his first few days, but now he's getting there. Definitely getting there… Looking at him- it's hard… I was that kid once; I once had that innocent, naïve look. It scares me that I don't remember it. I don't remember that kid. There was a time I couldn't pick out a sniper in the distance, a net from the rest of the ground… How did I survive?_

"_Sometimes I'm more curious about how I manage to continue… I was assigned to Galios first about two years ago. In three months, I lost eight members of my team- they were five person teams. They were picked off, one by one. And one by one, someone new was there to take their place… It's kind of… surreal isn't exactly the right word, but sometimes it just take a long time for what happened to sink in. For you to realize how much it affected you… I came to Dekari over a year ago. I lost that team too. Then I got stuck with this one. I'm kind of amazed. It's been a while, and they're still all here…"_

/-/-/-/

/- _**Around the Same Time**_

Her lips trembled, the cold settling into her body, her winter clothing doing nothing to stop it. The pulse rifle in her hands trembled. She leaned back in the foxhole, hiding from the sight of snipers. Kee and Alexsi were besides her and across from her, Shanti, Baronich, and Data sat.

The words of Captain Griffin echoed in her ears. He had stood before them, his dark eyes betraying nothing of his fears. She had always liked the way his uniform was as dirt covered and frayed as their own. _"We are going to take back Shaul hill." _The hill had once been the site of Alliance Fleet Headquarters on Dekari. When the Federation took over, there had been reports that every officer inside was killed when they took over and made it their own headquarters.

Everyone was still as he continued, _"Outside of the complex, we face the threat of snipers, of soldiers like you in foxholes. To get inside, we have to by-pass shields and overcome at least three hundred officers inside the complex."_

She shuddered violently once again, perking at the sight of movement. Data crawled forward. _"As of now…"_ Harper saw his face as she remembered his words; his hollowed eyes searching the crowd of faces, _"consider yourself dead. Few of you will come back from this… you will be the lucky ones."_ His words sent chills down her back when she had first heard them. But right then, thinking back on them, she felt a sort of calm settle over her. She was almost ready to accept it.

They began to move, Data crawling across the grounds first, followed shortly by the rest of the team.

The first minutes were a blur. Pulse blasts flew over her head and her only response was an immediate one- firing in short bursts as she ran, sliding into the next hole she found. Three others had already made it there; Shanti was one. She looked at him, nodding before they pulled themselves out of the ditch.

Her sight was focused forward as she ran, firing in any direction that a blast came from. Shanti stayed with her, running besides her, as they kept their eye out for the rest of their team. Suddenly she skidded to a stop; Shanti was no longer besides her. She fell to the ground crawling back over bodies and mud, flinching at the explosions that rocked the ground around her. His eyes stared opened, unseeing, unfeeling. Her hand touched his chest, dark purple liquid spilling through her fingers.

Harper got up, racing forward, forgetting to fire. Eventually she came upon another foxhole and fell into it. She had to stand there for a long time; she didn't know what else to do. A moan rang out in the distance, diminished by the pulse blasts and howling winds. The urge to move hit her and she continued to run.

Her foot caught on someone's leg. She fell into the mud, cursing. Her instincts took over; she looked up at the man's face. Baronich gagged on the blood in his throat. Tears welled in her eyes and she brushed away some of the hair from his eyes.

"Baronich? Can you hear me?" Her hands were already opening the medkit, trying to assess his wounds. Before she could pull out the tricorder, he gasped his last breath and his eyes fell closed.

Harper looked desperately around her. She could barely distinguish the men and women around her; she could barely tell who was winning or what was happening. All she could do was get back to her feet and make a run for the next foxhole.

At some point along the way, she found Kee again. He was hiding in a foxhole, laying down cover fire for several others. She joined him, targeting a couple Starfleet officers only a few meters away. When the phaser fire diminished, she tapped his shoulder and he nodded at her. The moments were washed away by adrenaline, but somehow the two managed to be among the first to the complex entrance. Several officers held the position; one of them was attempting to open the door. It sparked and he cried out in pain. Harper rushed to tend to his injuries; Kee immediately took his place.

"Hey there. I'm Brooke."

"Lieutenant Henderson, but you can call me Rich."

"Rich? Looks like that damn thing get you in the face. I'm gonna put some gel on it," she said, pulling out a small container, rubbing the cooling gel on his burns. "This is a transmitter microbe- they'll beam you back." He nodded dully, his eyes fall closed in pain before he disappeared.

She hadn't been paying attention and hadn't noticed that men were already pilling into complex- or that Kee laid sprawled, his chest raw and exposed with a cauterized wound. She swallowed, darting her eyes around. She hesitated, torn between rushing to his side and staying frozen where she was. A stray blast compelled her to her feet, forcing her to dash inside behind the others.

/-/-/

Data had long ago been separated from his team. He moved forward, not feeling the strain or exhaustion the troops around him knew. With cool eyes he glanced at the bodies around him; he watched officers skid to a stop at random moments, ducking under the explosions. Their patients would cry in pain, moan against the hurriedtreatment of their wounds, before they would disappear back to the complex.

A dozen explosions rocked the earth around him, forcing him into a foxhole. Several men were already there, firing at the stray group of Starfleet officers. Data joined them, digging his elbows into the soft ground to steady his aim.

A groan beside him was followed shortly by the sickening thud of a body falling on hard ground. Even Data's android concentration couldn't stop him from glancing over. Pale blue scales glistened against the bright streaming phaser blasts; mechanical eyes stared up into the darkened sky. The sight made him feel nothing; it was the first time, however, that he recognized what he would have felt.

His eyes moved away. He fired one last shot before barrelling from his hiding. The others who had surrounded him followed, shooting as they went.

Whether it was hours or minutes later, Data found his back against the complex entrance. He fired at the last few officers visible and ducked inside. Data wasn't sure how long they had been streaming into the complex, but already the situation inside was under control. Troops moved systematically; the first seven levels were secure. Quietly, he made his way back to the surface, prepared to help take charge.

/-/-/

It was hours later when she stepped outside. She had run out of transmitter microbes forty minutes ago; she had run out of cooling gel three hours before that; her phaser rifle had disappeared at some time and with it, so had her energy.

The bitter wind snapped at her cheeks; she closed her eyes, the dampness of her cheeks freezing her skin. Looking out, the sky had turned a blood red with the first sun rising over the horizon. It cast an eerie glow over the field. It had never been green- not that she had ever seen- but never before had the dirt been littered with so many bodies. Never before had she seen so much red, so much blood. The odd thing was that, no matter how disgusted she was, she could find it nowhere in her to feel sickened.

Her legs led her through the throngs of people guarding the door; her instincts kept her aware of the occasional short bursts around her.

Looking out, she couldn't begin to estimate how many had died. Hundreds, at least. She had treated too many to count. It was one of the few moments she was glad that she never got to know people outside of her team.

She paused, looking back out over the field. Shanti was out there. Despite the fact that she had promised herself she wouldn't, she had gotten close to him, as close as was possible. She could only wonder at what might have been had the circumstances only been different.

She had left Baronich somewhere out there. He'd been cold ever since they had met, but she had never once faulted him for it. She was even grateful in that moment.

And Kee. Her eyes strayed back to the complex entrance. No one had bothered to move the young ensign. She wondered for a moment what he would have accomplished away from the horrors of war. Would he have been a skilled technician; would he have invented something. She would never know.

And Alexsi and Data, she hadn't seen them since the beginning. They must have been out there somewhere- whether dead, wounded, or alive, she didn't know.

Her feet led her forward and eventually she just stopped, losing the will to do anything. She collapsed onto the dirt mound, bringing her knees to her chest. She needed to cry, but she couldn't find the energy in her.

She saw the feet first, then her eyes moved up the legs, eventually settling on his face. They were the only two left of the original six; it was something she just understood from his eyes. Data shifted, moving to sit next to her. For a machine, she found his hand comfortingly warm. She leaned into him, letting her head drop onto his shoulder; she was surprised when he, in turn, leaned into her and rest his chin against her forehead.

Harper's capacity for thought leaked away the longer she sat there. Her eyes took in the images, her ears the sounds, her nose the smells, but her brain understood none of it. All she could hear was the deep, rich voice echoing in her ears:

"_As of now… consider yourself dead. Few of you will come back from this… you will be the lucky ones."_


	32. Year 12: 2383

_Author's Note: _Unfortunately for you guys, I'm leaving in a couple of days for two weeks. But, because I took pitty on you, for the next three days, I'll post all of Y. 12. So read slow, it's got to last a while. ;) Enjoy!

/-/-/-

**Year Twelve: 2383**

"_Personal Log. Stardate: 38301.23._

"_The Breen, it seems, have officially joined the Federation. It was a mere rumour at first. We're not sure how long the alliance has existed; no one seemed to know anything about it… _

"_Our ships protecting the borders are being decimated. The Breen ships are strong, in all these years we seem to have forgotten their weaknesses. They seem to have none. It wouldn't be a surprise, either, to learn that the Federation has given them weapons and newer technology. Their people haven't been at war for a decade, they aren't fighting their own in a never ending war. They're fresh, they're eager perhaps, but the point is that they have supplies and a willpower we can't match."_

Riker sighed, shifting his weight. Stars sat soundly in place outside the viewscreen. Byron cracked his neck, tapping his fingers against the armrest. Riker glanced at him and then stood, pacing around the bridge.

A red head stood at the tactical station. He shifted his weight, glancing nervously at Riker. The Admiral didn't offer him anything more than a nod.

"_Moral has hit an all time low. People are tired, they're scared, they want to go home, they want to feel safe. They want food- real food. All we have are pre-made meals and tasteless power bars to each. Energy drinks that no longer give an edge. Theoretically, one could live off these things forever. In practice, one can only truly operate on them for a short time. Most are already approaching two years."_

Green-yellow eyes shifted around the bridge. The Helm was alone in the front, ops was located in the far corner. His Captain's chair was in the center, flanked by only a single chair to his left; he had no ship's counsellor. Tactical wasn't behind him, but in the right corner.

Names he had memorized. The ship's schematic he knew. Data found it a startling reaction to be nervous as he stood there. Not of combat or fitting in, but of flowing into his mindset he often held while on the _Enterprise_. It was a different ship, a different crew, and there was no Admiral Riker there any longer.

"_I spoke with Deanna that other day. The kids are fine. Big… Chamberlain got high marks on his math test. She mentioned a new kid that's coming, one of the kids in the Betazed Program. Keeps them in safe homes until they can return to theirs. Most have two parents on ships in the front lines or on stations. Others are coming from worlds like Trill, Vigo, and those in the Dekari system. I think she said he was a Vigolian…"_

Blue scales glistened in the dim lighting. His grey-blue eyes swirled around the room. He hadn't brought much with him from home- clothes, a few school things, a couple books and photos, there hadn't been much more. He shared the room with three others; everyone kept their things together, hidden almost. He was sure he had everything.

Looking down at the duffle bag, he sighed, throwing down the last thing he held in his hands. For a moment he just stood there, overwhelmed by the desire to throw something across the room, to fall onto his bed, to run, to scream, to fall to the floor and cry. In the end, the only movement he managed was to bring his hands to his face, rub it, then run his hands through his short strands of black and blue hair.

Footsteps out the door alerted him to the man's presence. He turned to look as the door opened. He sighed. He didn't want to go, but he didn't want to stay more.

"_There's not much else to say right now. It's late. Still have a lot to work. Just thought I'd get some of these things said… Okay… Computer, end log."_

/-/-/-/

/- _**Late January **_

It was a beautiful planet, he guessed. Tall fertile plants displayed in colourful arrays against a sky painted with splashes of reds and purples in the fading lights. But he was used to water, the sound of waves lapping on the shore, of the same waves crashing against the cliff, the smell of the water in the air. Looking around, he saw swimming, sailing, fishing- his normal pass times- were all no longer available. He noticed it was warmer, no sea wind to cool the planet down. He already hated it.

Scratching the thin layer of scales on his neck, he looked up at the man walking besides him. Some Betazoid, a Mr. Daemon. He was in charge of kids like him. Mr. Daemon squeezed his shoulder. He gave a weak smile in return before shifting his focus back to the walkway, slowly following it with his eye to the Betazoid mansion at its end. The door opened before they stepped up onto the front patio. The boy jumped. His eyes found a waist standing in the doorway and followed the grey trimmings of the tunic, finding the man's face to be several feet above his head. The tall man glanced down at him only once before his attention returned to Mr. Daemon. The boy leaned his head back, looking rapidly between them. Three days ago had marked his first encounter with a Betazoid, but he had quickly learned that adult Betazoid always spoke telepathically to each other when kids were around. He wanted to tell him he wasn't a kid like the others- he was a year away from the Academy.

"Oh, at least let the poor boy inside!"

The voice boomed from inside the house, drawing his attention away front the starring contest. It took a moment before he saw her, but when he did, he knew she was the embodiment of her people: ostentatious and flamboyant, yet elegant and charming. He smirked. She was a woman he could live with.

"You must be Gavrilovich Markov."

He gave a shy nod. "Everyone just calls me Gavil."

"Well I am Lwaxana Troi and it is a pleasure to meet you."

"And you, ma'am," he said quietly. She smiled at his shyness, and he suspected she knew he wasn't often so timid.

"Well, Mr. Homn, would you mind taking Gavil and his things to his room?" The tall man bowed his head and took the small bag Gavil had dropped at his feet. "I have to speak with Mr. Daemon for a minute. I'll be up shortly." Again he just nodded. Carefully, he stepped over the threshold, hesitating as he walked past the Betazoid and into the front walk. It was large, beautiful, and old, but also memorizing. Gavil however spent little time gawking at the paintings or varnished wood- Vigo had similarly old architecture and he himself had lived in a house much like the one he was in. The tall man led him up a large flight of twisting stairs and then down the hallway. Gavil made sure to remember where they were when the man stopped without failingto observe his new surroundings.

The tall man opened a door and ushered him inside, gingerly setting his bag down on the bed. Then he simply bowed his head and slipped out of the room. Gavil didn't watch, his attention split between the gigantic gold trimmed bed, the glass window that looked over a Betazoid garden, and dozens of wooden objects. A wardrobe, a nightstand, a desk but without a comm unit, several hung pictures, plants, and the centuries old bed.

"What do you think?" The same voice called softly behind him. He turned, startled out of his reverie.

"Your house is very lovely."

"Why thank-you."

"Are you rich or something?" She smiled at the boy as Gavil blushed deeply for blurting out his question.

"No, my dear boy, but my ancestors were."

"Were they royal or something?"

"Oh yes. But that is for another time. Come along- I'll give you the tour." He nodded a few times, glancing back at the room before being ushered out of it by the Betazoid. "Obviously, that's your room. Chamberlain's is that last one next to yours. Across the hall is Elizabeth's. Chamberlain and Liz are my two grandchildren; they're around somewhere down stairs. Liz is- well how old are you, Gavil?"

"Fifteen, ma'am."

"Lwaxana, please. Liz is thirteen, so no too much younger than you. Chamberlain's seven." Gavil nodded behind her, his eyes mapping out the hallway. "Down at the other end is my room and my daughters'," she pointed to the rest of the hall the extended on past the entrance to the stairs. Material draped over her arm, enchanting his eyes for a moment longer before they focused on the ancient wood doors and drapery. "As a general rule, the children don't go past the stairs."

"No problem."

"Come on down here, much more interesting things to see." He sighed softly, his hand running along the smooth length of the railing. Window drapings were pulled open, windows lined the lengths of the walls, allowing for far more sunlight to burst through. Gavil flinched at the sudden brightness; it was all the reaction needed for his irises to spin discretely, closing his pupils until the light was bearable.

"Over there in the east wing," she gestured to their left, "is mostly my study- I would appreciate if you don't go in there. That door there is also the entrance onto the veranda and gardens. The west wing houses the kitchen, dinning area, and…" she paused to lean closer to the boy; Gavil smirked at her stage whisper, "several other rooms of which have no real purpose."

Lwaxana's eyes moved away from his, her head tilting away from him. Gavil turned to look in the same direction but saw nothing. His brows creased together, confusion soon washed away when he heard the sounds of children laughing and rushing through one of the many house entrances. Gavil looked back to Lwaxana, expecting her to beckon them into the front hall with a quick call of their names. The woman, however, was silent. The children suddenly quieted, though their laughter didn't cease. Moments later, two figures turned the corner.

Gavil's eyes meet the little boy's first. He was a scrawny little thing, barely making it up to the Vigolian's shoulder and with no fat or muscle to support his frame. His eyes were dark, watching Gavil with a startled curiosity. Gavil wasn't certain if it was simply because he was a stranger, or a strange alien the boy had yet to encounter.

After a short examine, Gavil turned his sights onto the teenaged girl. Lwaxana had placed her at thirteen years of age, but Gavil would have said she was at least his own age. Long dark curls framed her rounded face, full lips and stunning blue eyes completed a near perfect face. She was mature, physically, for her age, but Gavil forced his eyes to remain on her eyes. He noted her gaze was level with his and that she was actually just a few centimeters taller than him.

"Gavil, these are my grandchildren, Chamberlain and Elizabeth," he smirked at Liz rolling her eyes. Her grandmother didn't seem to notice. "Children, this is Gavil. You already know that he'll be staying here for a while." Gavil glanced up at her when she stopped talking, wondering if he was required to say something. She tilted her head subtly to the side and her face reflected words he didn't hear her saying. Looking back to Liz, he noticed that the girl was sighing at Lwaxana. Chamberlain was just staring at him.

"Uh," Liz started with an awkward sigh. She shifted her weight and didn't look at Gavil for a moment. "My brother and I were going out fishing for a little while. Would you like to come?"

Gavil shook his head slowly, resisting the urge to look up to the Betazoid woman to an answer. Instead, he merely stated, "There's no ocean around here."

"No, we go to the pond," she said with a roll of her eyes. She looked back at her grandmother and Gavil wondered what was running through her mind. "It's out past the garden."

"Pond?" Gavil shook his head, "You can't properly fish in a pond." He flinched at the rudeness of his words. Looking to Lwaxana, he hoped that he hadn't offended her. She wasn't paying any attention to him however, and looking back to Liz he noticed that her face was making inflections to words she wasn't saying aloud. "But… I think that… would be nice." Liz looked suddenly at him, startled away from some kind of conversation with her grandmother. He shrugged. "When are you going?"

"Now." Gavil nodded. Then, as an afterthought, he looked to Lwaxana. She just smiled at him; he took that as permission enough to leave.

/-/-/-/

/- _**Later That Day**_

Lwaxana smiled as she felt the familiar presences entering the outer walls of the Troi gardens. Cocking her head to the side, her grin broadened at the feelings of pure giddiness emanating from the three. Even Mr. Homn seemed casually amused.

Her work temporarily forgotten, Lwaxana stood, stepped through the sliding glass door into the gardens. Under most circumstances, she followed the presence she sensed in order to find someone, but she found following their laughter was far more productive.

The three children rounded the corner before her, Chamberlain waving his arms through the lon'as leafs as Mr. Homn ushered them forward towards the house.

"How was it?" The three stopped suddenly, but Mr. Homn merely continued, passing Lwaxana indifferently as he carried something away.

"We caught four fishes!" Chamberlain proudly put up four fingers; Lwaxana smiled at him, brushing his disorderly hair back.

"Four fishes? Wow, you're turning into quite the fisherman."

"He only caught one fish. I caught one too!" Lwaxana turned a small frown to her granddaughter; her abashment kept Lwaxana from saying anything. "And Gavil caught two. He's really good at fishing, better than dad even." Her words came in such a rush, that it took Lwaxana a moment before she sensed the sudden but brief melancholy that drifted over the young girl.

"Did you have fun?" she said, finally turning to the quiet Vigolian. His grey eyes were still searching around the exotic garden when she spoke and suddenly they turned to her. He nodded; she saw the growth of a smile pulling against his lips. "Good. If Mr. Homn's good to his word, I think we'll be having fresh, Betazoid fish for dinner in a little bit. Go, get washed up. Your mother will be home soon."

Gavil paused a minute before her even as the other two children ran off to their rooms. His thoughts were so jumbled, she couldn't disconcert the question on his mind. After a silence, he glanced up, catching her eye. Then, as if deciding on an answer, he excused himself from the garden and ran up to the house where Chamberlain was waiting for him. Gavil smiled down at the boy, making a quick mess of his hair, before challenging him to a race up the stairs.

"I'm gonna beat you," he threatened, running at half his own speed to the stairwell.

Chamberlain was three steps ahead of him, laughing inanely and throwing back over his shoulder, "Nuh-uh. I'm winning!" When they reached the top, Gavil laughed, pretending that he was too out of breath to speak for a moment. Chamberlain glowed with victory. "I won!"

"You did, huh?" Gavil grabbed the boy before he could run again and, flipping him over his shoulder, carried him into the boy's room, throwing him down on his bed.

"Ah!" The boy squealed shortly, dissolving into laughter as Gavil started to tickle him. "Stop! Stop!" With a final laugh, Gavil did as ordered. The boy kept giggling for a while, protecting his stomach with his small arms. "Not fair!"

"Of course it is; I'm bigger. Get changed okay? You don't want to wear that to dinner." Chamberlain nodded reluctantly, but stood and headed for his dresser. With a glance to make sure the boy was obeying his grandmother's command, Gavil stepped across the hall into his own room.

He sighed, a wave of homesickness washing over him. He hadn't had any siblings, but towns on Vigo were close and he had been a brother to practically every child in his home town. It wasn't hard to like Chamberlain, the boy was just so alive with energy, but it was a crushing reminder of the people he had left behind.

Squeezing his eyes shut, he shook his head, trying desperately to pull himself from his thoughts. Instead he looked down at himself. Chamberlain, on accident, had knocked him off his footing, causing him to get most of his pantlegs wet. He had dried standing in the sun, but the darken shade still showed and dirt had caked itself to the bottoms on his legs. It might have been acceptable at home- depending on if someone was dinning with them or not- but here in another's house, he knew better than to assume such a state would be acceptable. Discarding the dirt clothing quickly, he found the one of the three pairs of traditional garbs he had brought with him.

Stepping in front of the mirror, he considered the image before him for a short time. His hair was longer than the popular style on Vigo, but he liked the way his black and blue locks fell just over his ears and eyes. His scales glistened in the light of the setting sun. He titled his head to the side. The low cut of the shirt's collar allowed them to be seen farther than most other races saw. They continued, with decreasing density, onto his chest and shoulders. It couldn't be seen, but they continued over much of his body in swirling arrays, tanned skin mixing with the pale blue of the scales; a thick pair of knickers and the flowing material that made his long sleeved shirt hid it from sight.

For a short time he considered changing into another outfit. The one he was wearing- his feet and lower legs bare and his neck farther exposed- was often what his mother forced him into when guests arrived. He didn't mind the garb, he just preferred what he wore out sailing and fishing. He worried, however, that it wasn't appropriate for a Betazoid dinner. He turned his focus to some of the other things he had brought. All of them seemed less formal. He chose to remain as he was.

With a final sweeping look around his room, he took a breath and stepped into the hall. "Oh, sorry!" The voice startled him; he looked up quickly, finding an unfamiliar woman standing just before his door. His head cocked naturally to the side, observing her. The dark curls of her hair and the deep brown of her eyes instantly told him that she was Lwaxana's daughter. "I was just about to get you. Dinner's ready."

"Oh. I was just coming down."

"I'm Deanna Riker, by the way."

"Gavil," he said, looking curiously at her offered hand a moment before taking it. "Gavrilovich Markov."

"It's a pleasure to meet you."

"And you."

"Shall we?" He nodded, and following her gesture, led her down the stairs. At the bottom, he paused, letting her guide him around to the back area where Liz and Chamerlain were already seated. Looking around, it was nothing like he was used to. On Vigo, tables were not used- and if they were, they were low, nearly to the ground- for everyone laid on cushioned mats, eating on their sides rather than sit in chairs. Food littered the floor during dinners; they were not organized on top of a high table.

His brows came together as he looked at the room. He and a few others had made a larger scene the first time they had been forced to sit and eat with the others when they arrived on Betazed a few days before. Gavil had grown to accept that he had to imitate certain aspects of their society, but he still wasn't accustomed to them.

He glanced at Deanna suddenly, embarrassed that she might have sensed his disquiet. If she had, she showed no signs of it. She merely motioned for him to take a seat as Lwaxana entered the room behind us. "Find everything alright?" she asked casually, sweeping through the room to her seat. She gave him the impression that her appearance, her entrance for the most part, was an important part of her career.

"Yes," he said quietly with a nod of the head. He recalled her warning about the use of the word "ma'am", but using her name was not a step he was ready to take.

"Good."

He waited a moment, twitching in his seat as he wondered what came next in a Betazoid dinner. A gong rang a few times and then food was served. No prayers were made- Lwaxana later explained that the gong took care of that. There was no particular order necessary for the food to be served or consumed, it was merely all there to be eaten whenever one desired. The chairs were still uncomfortable and Gavil had been deeply embarrassed when Deanna caught him squirming in his seat.

When the meal was finished, he waited to be asked to clear the table. When the request didn't come, he took it upon himself to rise and start without it. While Chamberlain had already run off to play, both Liz and Deanna remained to watch him quizzically. Only Lwaxana laughed. He looked up, startled into embarrassment yet again.

"This isn't Vigo, Gavil. Mr. Homn will take care of this."

"But…" He looked back down at the dirtied dishes and then back at the Betazoid.

A mere moment after his name was mentioned, Mr. Homn entered, taking the dishes from Gavil's hands and walking them out to the kitchen to be cleaned. He watched the towering man walk away, turning back to see the end of some soundless conversation. He supposed the younger woman was explaining his confusion, explaining that on Vigo it was polite for the guest to pick up as his hosts had been kind enough to prepare the food and serve the meal.

With a sigh, Gavil settled back into his seat. He had expected differences, he had just decided that he didn't like most of them.

/-/-/-/

/- _**Around the Same Time**_

There was something curious about the way the game was played. If he watched closely, examined the angles with his naturally intense concentration, he could see the cracks, the insecurities, the emotions playing just below the surface. He found it to be the most revealing moments with these people, ironically.

On _Enterprise_, Data had learned some of the greater qualities of his fellow officers from playing poker with them- the ideal that they could conceal everything under a thin mask, but no matter how they tried it shinned through at certain points. He had come to learn that Riker was equally as sly and skilful at the game as he was in practice- staring down opponents just as he could enemy captains. Dr. Crusher's strategy was more caring, a tender security that read like confidence. She used it for her patients, to comfort even those who would never make it. Worf had played aggressively, a mirror of his warrior skill. Data had learned to understand many of his friends' battle attitudes in the security of their quarters on a Friday night.

On the _Atlas_, Data had learned the same way.

He had learned from a simple gaze that his first officer wore her emotions close to the surface. Commander Lise Kylah. He had read her file, her mission reports, and had been introduced to her a week before he settled onto his new ship but his first impression of this came at their first poker game. She would often cock an eyebrow, tilt her head just so, and convey an air of cockiness when she had a good hand, and usually even if she didn't. It was something she brought with her to the bridge; no matter how desperate the few battles they had been engaged in were, he never once noticed her falter from her confident stride.

Lieutenant Holic Ilya was a more devious man. It was a trait someone had once mentioned was true for most of his species. The Fran'rek enchanted him equally as much as the ambiguous tattoos spinning down his cheek and neck. How he went from a benign threat to winning the game caused the same amazement in Data as how he seemed to repair the ship's many problems in remarkable time.

His tactical officer, however, was a mirror of Worf in so many ways. Lieutenant Commander James Maitland was an ambitious young man, strong and determined, but also very aggressive. He didn't like to loose. The stubborn quality intrigued him; he liked Maitland's inability to back down from a fight, but he also feared that he would continue on a reckless path. But, perhaps in war, it was necessary.

Data looked up, golden eyes rising to meet hazel. They sparkled with a mischievous gleam. A game of poker hadn't taught him anything that he didn't already know about this woman; she had proven herself to him long before. Lieutenant Brooke Harper smirked back at him, waiting for him to make a bet. She always had a mysterious air about her- perhaps it was merely the circumstances of their original meeting or perhaps it was just an ingrown part of her character, but either way he never knew quite what she was capable of doing. She continued to smile and Data squinted his eyes at her. Shaking his head, he knew she was bluffing.

/-/-/-/

/- _**February, A Few Days Later **_

She didn't expect her anger to be channelled through her PADDs and files as she threw them into a box with the rest of her things. She didn't expect it, but she wished it were true. Disappointingly, throwing them didn't even make her feel better. And yet she threw each one, individually, onto the pile.

From the corner of her eye, she saw the door open. Deanna stood there, watching with furrowing brows as she dropped an entire stack of PADDs into the box. "Sal? What are you doing?"

Sal seemed to stop, mid-throw, as she turned her head to focus her attention on Deanna. Suddenly the PADD dropped back onto her desk, its clattering covering up the furious pounding of Sal's feet hitting the floor as she walked across the room to pick up a paper. "Did you get one of these?"

"What-?" Deanna's hand reached out to take the paper out of reflex after Sal shoved it into her face. Her eyes hesitated but then moved away from the fury raging in Sal's eyes to skim over her orders. She looked up, eyes wide and jaw slacked. "You're being transferred?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

Sal's shoulders made an awkward attempt at shrugging as her eyes turned away. She sighed as her brows furrowed together. "I asked them that. Apparently they feel that what we do here doesn't matter any more."

"What? How can they say that?"

"There hasn't been on actual use of the weapon B-472 in an entire year. That apparently means, to them, that they won't use it again. And since we haven't made any progress in curing it, they want to move us doctors to where we're needed."

"And where's that?"

"A starship- the _Neville_- in the Beta Fleet." She rolled her tongue over her bottom lip, her hands falling to rest on her hips. She stood there for a while, not knowing quite what to say or do. She had no desire to return to her packing. "I imagine that you'll be transferred out soon too."

Deanna just shook her head softly. "I don't think so. They'll keep me where they need me. They need people here no matter what they think of it."

"In war, people need psychiatrists."

"Don't I know it," she scoffed, "They'll keep asking me to come in for consulting jobs."

"Or move you permanently there."

Deanna shrugged and Sal felt for the first time that her friend didn't understand the danger her job was in or the anger Sal felt at her superiors for ripping her away from hers, so unprepared as she was for it to happen. "See, there's the difference between us. Those consulting jobs- helping people who can still put a sentence together- that's what I went to school for. That's what I wanted to do with my life. But this-" she made a sweeping gesture that encompassed not only the room but the building surrounding them, "this weapon and these patients- that's what you went to medical school for. You want to do the research and the diagnosing. Me, I'd much rather be on a starship than here."

"Yeah…" Sal looked at the floor, at the wall, at the spot on the door just over Deanna's shoulder. But then she turned away, grabbing the last of her PADDs and throwing them into the pile with the rest of them. She fumbled with the lid, wanting to appear for a moment like she still had reason to be staring at it.

And Deanna stayed quiet for that time. Sal didn't doubt that she could sense everything surging through her- her anger, her disappointment, her fear, her confusion, her guilt, and ever her feelings of being betrayed. But she wondered if Deanna knew how to separate those feeling, because she knew that she couldn't separate them herself.

"When do you leave?"

Even though the voice startled her, Sal didn't turn to look. She flinched instead- a gesture somewhere between being startled and stopping herself before she made a move to turn around. "Tomorrow."

"Tomorrow."

"Yeah."

"They're yanking you out of here so quickly?"

"I guess."

Sal didn't need to look at Deanna to feel how suddenly the tension in the room had just increased. Her words had come out more harshly than she had intended but she didn't feel it necessary to apologize.

"Okay… well… I've got work to do."

"Yeah."

"Well… Will I see you tomorrow?"

"Probably not." Sal finally felt the futility of staring at a closed box and turned, finding Deanna staring at her hands, unsure of what to say or do to comfort her friend. And suddenly Sal softened, much of her anger and betrayal dissipating at the sight of her distraught friend.

"Um… good luck then," Deanna looked up and tried to force a smile, but Sal knew better.

"It's been a pleasure."

"It has."

"Okay then." Sal nodded and her grey eyes roamed over her now former office. "Um… I leave early tomorrow."

"Yeah. Goodbye."

"Goodbye." They didn't move for a moment. But Deanna caught her eye and, awkwardly, she stepped forward, wrapping her arms around Sal. Her friend hugged her back stiffly, but Deanna knew better than to expect the Vigolian to respond to the physical contact. Deanna stepped back, her eyes looking over her friend, burning her image into her memory. She could only nod, more than sad to see a good friend leave. She smiled and then turned, walking away.

/-/-/-/

/- _**Around the Same Time**_

A harsh breathing sound startled him as the warm air grazed the back of his neck. As he turned to look at the disturbance, an echoing almost mechanical humming began. "Are you finished yet?"

He shook his head at the voice, "I need a few more minutes."

The alien gave no more than and short breath and stepped back away. It left him and the Human released a sigh, careful not to breathe through his nose for a moment. The entirety of the Breen ship gave off a peculiar odour, but hours aboard it had relieved the watering of his eyes. The Breen themselves gave off a stronger odour, however. The stagnant feel of their breath was the worst part.

The circuit sparked; the Lieutenant Commander pulled his fingers away, blowing on them with a pained look. He glanced over to his side; a young Mikolian officer snickered. The Commander just made a pointedface at him. He turned back, cleaning up the circuitry before closing the work terminal.

"I'm finished." The Breen nodded, but ignored him. "I'll be down in engineering," he said pointlessly for he knew that the Breen wouldn't care as long as he was off his bridge. The Commander mussed as he packed away his things that the Breen would prefer him and all Human- and Mikolians- to be off his ship entirely and he would agree wholeheartedly with the alien.

As the Breen turbolift shakily fell three decks down, the Commander shuffled his feet, uncomfortable being surrounded by so many Mikolians. On his ship, the _Camillius_, there were no Mikolians and there were certainly no plans to invite any Breen onboard. He wasn't xenophobic, he lived just fine with the other Federation citizens and the Alliance races that still spotted some ships, it was just their supposed allies that bothered him. The Mikolians had an air about them that seemed to invite hatred and distrust- he sensed an old grudge among them that they themselves no longer seemed to understand. The Breen just smelled and their staticy terse voice left him with an unexplainable nervousness.

He stepped of the turbolift, shuffling out ahead of the Mikolians. His crew looked up at him with an almost relieved gaze and for a moment he entertained the thought that they had feared his death at the hands of the Breen captain.

"How are we doing down here, gentlemen and lady?" The female Ensign gave him a short glare and he grinned at the long held joke.

"We're almost finished with the upgrades. The Breen systems were a little more incompatible than we anticipated."

"Yeah," the Commander sighed. He rubbed his hand over the back of his neck as he looked over their work. His team had been assigned to give similar upgrades to the Breen fleet as Starfleet ships had recently received. The Commander had no qualms with the Breen standing a chance in battle against the Alliance, he just had a problem with giving advanced technology to a race he didn't trust.

"Keep up the good work and we'll be in a sonicshower in no time."

"Aye, aye, Commander," his second smirked.

The Commander shuffled around the engine room, standing wearily away from the Breen officers. The Alliance would fight the Breen if the Breen were to attack them- orders or no- and without the upgrades the Breen would be slaughtered. He didn't agree with the war and he didn't like helping the Breen but the war was raging around them and the Breen were their allies and somewhere along the way, he found himself becoming a contradiction.

/-/-/-/

/- _**Around the Same Time**_

"Hey, there's my favourite little boy!" JJ perked his head up at the sound of the familiar voice; he could feel the dimples forming in his cheeks as he grinned up at Kira's half visible form. Gripping his mother's hand tighter, he waited for the turbolift to halt and the entirety of Ops to become visible. His mother tugged him along; he jumped down onto the deck, releasing his mother's hand so that he could dash up the stairs to Kira. The Bajorian smiled at him, rubbing his back affectionately.

"He really shouldn't be up here." JJ glanced up at Kira, but the woman was no longer smiling down at him.

He looked awkwardly back at his mother, who merely shook her head and replied, "Yeah, I know, but I need to talk to Ben and the Infirmary is a less inviting place for him right now."

He saw from the corner of his eye that Kira was nodding and his mother seemed unnaturally nervous. His brow chose to wrinkle at those observations but any farther thought on the matter was lost to him as he began looking around.

His eyes darted from wall to wall, face to face, colourful button to colourful button. It was an excited interest that had come from a lifetime of hearing about but never seeing such a place. JJ had lived on the station for seven long years and never had he been allowed to step foot in the place called Ops. A sort of disappointment fell over him- the same that so often accompanied waking from a dream. He realized then, the curiosity leaving his wide eyes even as he continued to stare at the stairs, the walls, the consoles, and opened panels, that it appeared very much like any other part of the station. It was old and Cardassian and damaged. There were men there, like in all other parts of the station, with their heads stuck in open panels and pulling their fingers quickly away, shouting words that never seemed to translate.

"I'll keep an eye on him for you." JJ looked back to his Bajoran godmother when her words reached his ears; it was only vaguely that he realized she was talking about him. "The Captain's in his office."

"Thanks." JJ smiled at his mother's retreating form. She smiled at him and then disappeared behind transparent doors.

Suddenly hands scooped him off the floor. He didn't struggle against the sensation; instead he shifted, adjusting as he was placed on the table. He smiled at Kira, gripping tightly to the edge of his seat and shifting the right a little so he wouldn't hit the mug near him. He rocked his legs, his eyes shifting over the entirety of Ops once again.

He had once asked his father why there were always people fixing things and why those bad people always came and broke everything all over again. His father's answer never seemed to change, but it also never seemed to help him understand. He seemed to use the phrase "it's complicated" to explain away all reason. JJ always nodded, looked thoughtful, and then continued on with his life. Some times, though, it just didn't seem important. Things were always broken, all the way back as far as he could remember people were sticking their heads in panels and fixing things.

With a sigh, he turned his attention back to Kira, "What are you doin'?"

She smiled, though she didn't look up at him. "I am keeping an eye on power readouts."

"Why?"

"So the Chief doesn't electrocute himself."

JJ blinked, "Oh." He looked away, focusing for a short time on the way his feet rocked back and forth, occasionally hitting the underside of the table. Then, when he grew bored, he gripped tighter at the edge and twisted his small body around to see the far end of Ops. A large area of the wall was left uncovered and unobstructed. He watched it for a while, his head cocked to the side, as he tried to formulate a reason why.

Suddenly it flickered, momentarily displaying the seal of the Alliance. It disappeared for a few seconds, then appeared again. For a moment the screen remained blue before it turned into a spotted black landscape. A small smirk played on his lips and he squinted at the screen. "Kira! Look! What kind of ships are those? I've never seen one before."

JJ looked to Kira briefly, just long enough to see if he had caught her attention. Then he looked back, smiling as he saw that the ships were getting closer. He looked back to her, confused at the paleness of her face and the flash in her eyes. "Red alert! Captain Sisko to the bridge. Ensign, get JJ out of here!"

He whipped his head back. He didn't know what the ships were; he didn't know why they scared Kira so much. All he knew was that hands were grabbing him around the waist and his face was being pushed into some man's shoulder and suddenly the world was shaking under him.

/-/-/-/

/- _**Around the Same Time**_

Three weeks ago, summer had come to an end on Vigo. The A'mil trees had begun to change colours and the Dur'l berries would be ripening soon.

School was back in session and children would be flooding the riversides and beaches more and more often, getting in their last hours before it became too cold, before the water began to freeze. Fishing season wouldn't last much longer- not in Heniuta.

The rainy season would begin in a few weeks. If he closed his eyes, he could still smell the scent of fresh rainwater in the air, the tinge of saltiness blending perfectly.

In Heniuta, the afternoon was peaking. School would be over, children would be at the parks enjoying a game of parrises squares.

He wondered shortly if his father was outside trimming the Syenebushes. It was about that time of year. He wondered briefly if they were still alive.

He wondered briefly if Kev- that annoying boy- still lived on Vigo. He assumed not. He wondered if he had joined Alliance Fleet; if they had met before in battle.

He stared down at the blueness of the planet- the thirteen oceans that made up his planet, tinted brown and green by the three continents. He had watched, forgetting the world around him for a time.

There his planet stood; peaceful, calm even in the mists of hundreds of grey invaders. He stood, casting a shadow over the tactical controls, looking out and searching the line of Alliance ships. He watched those who had come to protect his home- the same people he had fought for a decade- and wondered why he could still hate them so much. Then he looked around him. Most of his comrades were human- none were Vigolian like himself. He wondered what they thought of him; he wondered what he thought of himself.

The order came. He looked out, first at the Alliance ships then his homeworld. They crept closer and the planet grew more distant.

He had wanted so badly to return home, but, back in the beginning, it was so difficult to understand what was happening. It was near impossible to remain, equally as hard to escape. He had just stayed and he had fought and he had never known why.

He had never hesitated at the sound of an order and he hadn't then. His fingers stretched over the controls. Somewhere in the pit of the ship, the torpedoes sat silently, only as intelligent as he made them. They waited, cold and silent, unthinking and uncaring. He wished he could feel like they did- unable to think about what they were about to do.


	33. Year 12: 2383, continued

/-/-/-/

/- _**That Night **_

Her hand fell onto his arm as he led her up the walkway, laughing lightly at his sleepy comment. "You didn't have to take me home. And you definitely don't have to be escorting me to the door."

Tayd stifled a yawn, widening his eyes to try and keep his eyes opened. "It's late. I just wanted to make sure you got home."

"Because some dangerous Betazoid was going to kidnap me on my way home?"

"One never knows."

"Well, get home, get to sleep, I'll see you in… four hours."

Tayd smirked. "See you in four hours. Goodnight, Ambassador."

"Goodnight, Tayd." She turned to the door, keying in her access code. "And Tayd?"

"Yeah?"

"Never mind. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Goodnight."

He nodded and she turned into the house as Tayd retreated towards the waiting transport shuttle. She tossed her briefcase onto the sofa and kicked her shoes off to the side. Her hand ran over the staircase railing but she hesitated before her foot lifted onto first stair.

Her head tilted to the side. It was a lost sense, one she had redeveloped over the past years. A tingling in the back on her mind led her through the maze of hallways; after a few minutes she made it into the back room and out into the patio over looking the gardens. He was just standing there, as she knew he would be, his hands tucked in his pockets and his back to her.

At first he didn't hear her, but as she stepped through the doorway, her feet echoed against the concrete slab. He shifted a little but didn't turn completely. She heard him sniff; she sensed the pain radiating off him. Lwaxana stopped a few paces behind him, following his gaze over the darkened sky.

"What are you doing out here, Gavil?"

He didn't answer; he just sniffed again, bowing his head. His shoulders shook lightly and Lwaxana was compelled to step forward. Her hand rose to his back, rubbing comforting circles. Slowly, as he regained feeling in his numb body, he looked up at her. The dim light reflected of his damp cheeks; his grey eyes were raw and blood shot.

"When did you hear?" her voice was soft. He didn't answer and she was afraid that he hadn't heard.

Gavil looked away, stepping forward to force her hand to drop away from his back. He pulled a hand from his pocket, rubbing fiercely at his cheeks to dry them. "It was just on a media announcement."

"What were you doing up this late watching that kind of thing?"

"I couldn't sleep…" he choked down a sob, sniffing again. "I was just watching and… they… there were images, Lwaxana… The Federation has Vigo?"

"Yes."

"Do they know if anyone died?"

"No. Not yet…"

"My mother already died in this stupid war. My father sent me here so I'd be safe."

"He did the right thing."

Gavil looked over his shoulder sharply; staring through her with his piercing eyes. "He could be dead. We lived in one of the city that was heavily damaged."

"I'm sorry, Gavil."

"Don't be sorry, Lwaxana…" He looked away. Lwaxana's eyes fell closed; she could see that Gavil was not seeing her expansive garden or the distant horizon, but the sight of the Vigolian ocean just outside his home. "Don't be sorry…"

/-/-/-/

/- _**March, Three Weeks Later **_

Even on the far side of the room, he could identify her laugh. Staring out the window into the vast nothingness, he could see her reflection, recognizing instantly that it was Commander Chakotay standing besides her. He saw the moment she realized that they weren't the only two in the room; he saw at first the anxious pallor that fell over her face, and then the surprised understanding slowly transform her face.

He turned, displaying a full frontal view of his loose fitting civilian clothing intended to hide his true identity.

"Chakotay," she said softly; he recognized her tone as one of dismissal. The Commander took a moment to look him over, then another to meet her eyes. She gave only the slightest inclines of the head to make him turn and head back into their bridge.

Janeway turned her eyes to the figure as he bound subtly on his heels, his manner far too jovial as he sprang down the stairs, ending his jaunt just at the edge of her desk. "Hallo, Kapitän."

"Breslin?"

His face crinkled in the corners, his eyes laughing in a wildly unnecessary joy. "Sorry, we're lodging in a small German town. Just trying my hand at the local language."

"What do you got?"

The holographic figure shrugged, slouching against her desk; she could only assume that there was some kind of table back wherever he was. Setting his left heel over his right leg, Breslin crossed his arms over his chest. His demeanour reeked of impudence but she knew it was an act he used to appear nonchalant. But the chipper smile never left him; no matter what he had seen and been through in all the years that she had known him and before, never once did he loose that, though she had suspected for some time that it was a façade, much like the demeanour he had submerged himself in. Despite that, it was a position he was often found in during his years aboard Voyager. He left back when they had returned to the Alpha Quadrant.

"_Just know that it's not about you guys or Voyager or anything. It's just that… I've waited long enough to go back home. This war has nothing to do with me."_

"_We all get it, man. You just go back home."_

"_Yeah." Breslin could only smile and take Tom's hand and shake it firmly. "See you, Harry."_

"_Breslin, it was good knowing you. I hope we'll see each other again soon."_

"_Yeah. Me too." Harry gripped his hand as soon as Tom released hold it off. Breslin dropped it, turning to B'Elanna. The half-Klingon smiled at him and he returned the gesture with a full display of dimples. "It's been an honour working with you, B'Elanna. I'll miss you, and this beautiful little girl of yours. I was kind of excited about having a new kid around the ship. I- I'll miss you guys." _

"_Do what you gotta do. We'll see you around."_

"_Yeah. Bye."_

"_Good-bye." She seemed to hesitate a second, then threw her arms around his neck. For a moment he was stunned, but his arms made their way around her waist and his hands rested carefully on her back. "Try to visit or something."_

"_I'll try," he whispered back. With a final nod to his three friends, he turned on his heels, glancing back at them one final time as he made his way to the door. His Captain was standing there; Janeway caught his eyes, compelling him to stop with her solemn gaze. _

"_You don't have to do this."_

"_I know, Captain."_

"_Are you sure this is what you want?"_

"_No, but this is exactly the kind of thing I did before we got stuck out there and I'm glad to be doing it again."_

_Janeway nodded tersely, "You be careful, Breslin."_

"_I will, Captain."_

"_Be safe." He nodded back, far more prepared when she declined taking his hand and wrapped her arms around him._

"_Keep this ship safe," he smiled as he stepped back, "I expect to see her again."_

"_You will."_

Breslin's eyes traveled over the Captain's desk, following the line to the floor and then up the walls. "Well," he sighed, "right now we're following a lead on a possible mole."

"A mole in the Federation?"

He shook his head. "No. A mole in the Alliance."

Janeway's focus shifted away from the hologram; her eyes wandering around her office for a long time, as if it held an answer to his search. By the time she found words to respond, she had turned away from his holographic form and was pacing back towards the far wall. "Do you know who?"

"No."

"What fleet?"

"We're not sure. Alpha, probably. Maybe Beta."

"Rank?"

"High-ish. Whoever it is knows a lot."

"A Captain?"

Breslin shrugged. "It's possible. We think it's probably a Commander or Lieutenant Commander."

Janeway turned back, her shoulders slouching under the additional burden. She nodded decisively, "I'll report it to High Command. We might be able to find out more on our end… How are things on Earth?"

He shrugged. "I visit my parents every couple of weeks. I go there most every time with a feeling of guilt."

"You shouldn't feel that way."

"I should be on Voyager."

"This kind of thing is what you trained for. We need you there getting information from the Sklig Ntsar back to the Alliance."

"I know." He seemed on the verge of saying more, but stopped himself, titling his head to the side. Janeway watched him, understanding easily that he was listening to someone on his end. "I have to go in a minute."

"Before you go, the High Command wanted me to ask again- the Sklig Ntsar? They're still…?"

"Yeah. Everything's fine on that front…"

_The bar was dark, lights fluttered in a pace far too quickly for the human eye. He blinked hard against it, desperately clutching to retain control of his motor functions. He needed to be convincing, he needed it to go right, but suddenly he was grasping for words, for thoughts, for the understand of how to move his legs. _

_Hands were on him. Someone had grabbed him from behind. He tried to struggle, but he only landed farther in their arms. He felt blind to the world; too much light and too many colours were assaulting his senses. _

"_Who are you?" _

"_Why are you here?"_

"_Name! Rank!"_

_Questions assaulted him. Voices seemed to echo all around him; he couldn't tell if it was the same person or many interrogating him. He blinked rapidly, trying to identify his assailants. _

"_Name!"_

"_Bres," he said slowly, "Nathan Breslin, but you can call me Bres."_

_Skin connected with his cheek. He winced but made no other acknowledgement of the assault. _

"_Don't get cute. Rank!"_

"_I have none."_

"_Rank!"_

"_I don't have one!"_

_Another fist. He scrunched his nose, feeling the warm trickle of blood flowing down his nose, the taste of iron was on his lips. _

"_We know you're Starfleet."_

"_I'm not Starfleet," he hesitated and then said, "I'm Alliance Fleet," only because he could think of nothing else._

_Another fist, this one snapped his head to the side. He winced painfully. _

"_Seriously. Look in my left pocket."_

_Someone's hand dipped into his back pocket, pulling the burden from it. Muttering flew around him. Breslin tried to steady his breathing, still battling with his vision as he waited for them to accept that his identification was real. _

"_What are you doing here?"_

"_You part of the Sklig Ntsar?"_

"_What do you know about the Sklig Ntsar?"_

"_Enough to know that I'm looking for them and that they'd be well advised to listen to me."_

_A swift kick to the gut had him doubling over. He had already been kneeling; his hands fell flat on the ground; he coughed a few times. _

"_We're listening."_

"_Does that mean you are a part of the Sklig Ntsar?"_

"_Talk, AF, or I'll get a Starf-officer over here."_

"_Starf?"_

"_Starfleet, moron."_

"_Right… The Alliance High Command sent me. They want me to help you; I have a transmitter that can get back to the Alliance without being detected."_

"_And why would we want your help?"_

"_Because you'd have a better chance of ousting Amen with the Alliance's help."_

"_What kind of qualifications do you have to help us?"_

"_I was apart of Starfleet Central Intelligence Agency. I did a lot of undercover work seven years ago."_

"_Seven years ago?"_

"_Had a little incident with an alien entity and wound up in the Gamma Quadrant for a few years."_

"_Unfortunate… I still don't like you."_

"_You don't have to like me, just my transmitter."_

"_Shut up and stay with me and I might consider introducing you to a few select people."_

_Breslin looked up. The face finally came in focus and he was able to identify that his assailants were two Humans, the male had been talking, the female was holding her hand- she had punched him. "You haven't introduced me to you or your friend yet."_

"_I'm Andy, that's Reggie, and that's all you need to know. Let's get going."_

"I have to go."

"Thanks for the heads up. Be safe, Bres."

"You too, Captain." He smiled one last time, then his image flickered and faded into the air. Janeway sighed, turning back to the window.

/-/-/-/

/- _**A Few Days Later **_

Looking up at Byron's request, he found it was something akin to walking into a memory. Something blurred at the edge of his mind, an image that no longer had distinct features or complete truth to it. It was smaller than his memory recalled, brighter. Or perhaps that hadn't changed; without the beating of the hot sun on its back or the hot adrenaline coursing through his body, it looked normal for the first time, undistorted, but still all together surreal.

He stood slowly, glancing around at the officers around him. Most looked with vague indifference at the ship. They were young, their careers had been tainted with the sight of blood and death; there had never been an optimistic explorer that had joined, there had simply been proud children, idealistic but in another way entirely. Riker's eyes searched farther back and for a moment, only a short one, he saw the flicker of a smile on the Betazoid's face. He knew the adventure that had slipped so crushingly through his fingers. He had been one year away from graduation when the war broke out and he was shipped back to Betazed, his dreams of travel and exploration and science crushed by the hand of fate.

But, in an instant, the glimmer of hope was crushed back down where it had been stowed for years and Byron looked back to the Admiral, a frown of professional indifference firmly in place. Riker shook his head, looking back at the ship. The young Ensign who had once stood early morning vigils at his Helm had been promoted some time ago and had been transferred to another ship. Last Riker had heard, Kent's ship was destroyed at Galios, he had never asked if any survived. Not even the good doctor was awake to confirm his suspicions.

Fear suddenly began to rise in his chest, conflicted by sharp bouts of confusion. Panic fought a short time to be allowed to settle in, but Riker had never had time for such an emotion. He shook it off, raising his eyes to the screen.

A grey phantom hovered before his ship, requesting permission with its mere curious presence. Three other Alliance ships surrounded it; five others flanked Riker's ship. Its shape was unique, a bony, circular look that Riker knew he could not have mistaken.

The Admiral took in a slow breath, inhaling deeply before releasing the air and turning to the tactical officer. "Open a subspace link to the-" he considered calling it by its name, official record had documented their encounter, but he changed his mind, "unidentified ship."

"Channel opened, sir."

He gave a stiff nod. "This is Admiral William Riker of the starship _Enterprise_. You have just entered a war zone. Identify yourselves." He thought he detected the softest of chuckles on the other end, but shook his head, knowing that he couldn't have. "Can they hear us?"

"Yes, sir. The channel is opened."

No sooner had the words left the young Ensign's mouth than the viewscreen suddenly darkened, being replaced with the image of a silver lined bridge, the camera focused on the center area. A regal figure sat perched, his lips turned up in a boyishsmirk. "Has it truly been that long that you feel the need to reintroduce yourself?"

Riker allowed a grin to grow at the familiar voice. He nodded, an attempt to apologize for his harshness. "Herr Qui. I thought you said you didn't have any ships?"

"Us? They're recently acquired. Do you like it?"

"It's lovely. What are you doing out here?"

"If you would care to escort us to… to your leaders- governing body, I will certainly explain."

Riker didn't know how to answer. He merely stared for a time at the Yenyarian, making sure for himself that it truly was the young prince. Finally he turned, informing his Helm officer to set course for Betazed.

/-/-/-/

/- _**The Next Day **_

It was the sound of some insistent thing that disrupted the peace around her, pulling her mind from the vast void of unconsciousness. It was the tuneless sound of the chime that roused her fully; it took until the third chime to force her to crack open her eyes, finding the grey ceiling staring back at her. By the forth buzz, she opened her mind to the presence beyond the door.

"Tayd!" she groaned, sighing as she shut her eyes again, wishing to farther break her professionalappearance by draping her arm over her face. The door slid into the wall; she felt the awkward aura surrounding him as he shuffled inside. "You did hear me when I said this was to be my first, uninterrupted thirty minutes this week?"

"Yes, Ambassador," he said with a sigh. She could feel him, impatiently waiting to finish what he needed to say, wanting desperately to leave what she had proclaimed a temporary sanctuary from "all things that have nothing to do with sleep".

"Well?" she droned, sneaking a look from under her eyelid to look at him. The Trill was wetting his lips, focusing on a point on the wall just above her couch.

"The Council is being called. High Command as well. The _Enterprise_ has just hailed alerting us to a possible… situation, I guess."

For a long moment, Lwaxana didn't move. Tayd glanced down at her a few times, wondering what more he could say to get her moving, wondering briefly if she had fallen back into a dreamless sleep. "I'm still awake. I just have no energy to move." He gave a weak smirk; he was used to her noticing his casual thoughts, and the pointed comments that usually followed. "Give me a hand," she finally said, thrusting her hand out into the air. He took it, gently supporting the Betazoid as she stood. "Are they meeting in the Council Chambers or the conference room?"

"Chambers."

"Very well then." He led her outside, standing off to the side and just behind her as they marched through the halls. "Tell me about this situation, Tayd."

"Um, an unknown vessel appeared at the edge of Denobulan space. Apparently it is operated by a race called the Yenyarians-"

"They're the race Riker and two members of his crew encountered over a year ago?"

"Yes. They seem to want to make some kind of offer but Riker wasn't any clearer than that."

"What do you know about the report of their race?"

"Not much. The captain of the vessel seems to also be some kind of ousted royalty, but that's all I remember."

Lwaxana nodded despairingly, turning into the opened chambers door. Pell and Moricz were already there standing off in the corner. T'Pel entered from the other side of the room, glancing up to notice her presence. To the right, she noticed several Admirals, few of which she remembered a name to. The _Enterprise_ would not arrive for another few minutes and soon she would have to call these people to order before they argued pointlessly over unknown facts. Looking back at Tayd, she smiled and nodded at the young man. He bowed his head back and slipped away.

/-/-/-/

/- _**A Few Hours Later**_

"It was quite the surprise to see you again," Riker said with a small smile, nodding his greetings towards the man.

"Admiral Riker," Gemi nodded, smiling at the approaching man. Riker put out his hand and the Yenyarian reached out to take it. "It is Kasimir Gemi Tan now."

Riker's face fell subtly, but his eyes didn't darken like they used to. "Your father?"

"Dead. Forty-nine of your days ago."

"I'm sorry."

"It was not by your hand," Gemi's brow pulled together, his head shaking quickly, "You have nothing to apologize for."

Riker sighed and nodded, looking away from the young Yenyarian to see the rest of the room, the center table filled with the leaders of the Alliance. He shook his head and looked back to the man.

"What are you doing here, Gemi? Last time I checked, your people didn't even have ships capable of flying this distance."

"Last you were there, Will, things were very different. And we did- we do have ships capable of warp travel. Simply no use for them. And I am here now… to ask for help."

"Help?"

"We need it desperately, Will. And there are many things we can give you."

Riker rubbed the edge of his nose. "Things like?"

"Weapons. More efficient ways to use your ships' power. Food processors and much more."

"I lived with your people for nearly a month, Gemi, I saw none of that."

"Of course not, Will. You more than anyone knows how badly the magnetic storms affect all technology. It would have been pointless to use them." Gemi paused, sighing as he looked around at the others in the room. "But that does not mean I can not make them."

"Admiral Riker." The two looked away, back over at opened doorway. Admiral Keshna leaned out against the frame. "If you'd be so inclined as to stop pestering our visitor, we could begin this."

Riker smirked, shaking his head. "Sorry, Admiral." Gemi nodded, watching as the Admiral took his seat.

"Gemi Tan, you speak for your people?"

Gemi looked to the woman at the head of the table, her robes a majestic purple, dark curly hair falling onto her shoulders. "I speak for myself and those who follow me."

The woman nodded. "And the rest of your world?"

Gemi caught her eye, smirking. "The rest of my world does not know that I am still alive."

The woman openly chuckled and nodded again. "Very well. You have a proposition?"

"I understand that the Federation has been at war for nearly ten years."

"That is true."

He nodded slowly. Grey eyes wandered throughout the room, finding a mixture of Alliance uniforms among Ambassador robes. "Then I offer you weapons, far more powerful than you have now. We also have a method of creating far more powerful materials for your haul capable of withstanding thirty-eight percent more damage than the ones you have now." Gemi held his back straight and shoulders square, keeping his chin raised. His father taught him to show confidence, and to a lesser extent his superiority.

A short muttering went around the table. Gemi's eyes darted back to Riker; the Admiral nodded shortly, a smirk tugging at his lips. The woman looked to him again, eyeing the young man. "You are offering us a lot… What do you want in exchange?"

Gemi sighed, stepping closer to the table. His father had also taught him to be someone who others could empathize with when negotiating. Strength wasn't everything, but neither was warmth. "We have the ability to create weapons… but not the supplies."

The woman looked to the man on her right and then back at Gemi. "You want us to give you weapons in exchange for giving us weapons?"

"No. I will give you the instructions to whatever weapons you want. In exchange, we want the supplies to make our own."

"We'll need to discuss this." Gemi looked to the older Admiral, the human who had come out to the balcony. Gemi suppressed the urge to sigh and bowed to the Alliance leaders before turning and walking back out.

/-/-/-/

/- _**July, A Few Days Later **_

"I have never actually seen a cloud before." Gemi turned slowly to watch Will walk out onto the balcony outside the Council chambers. He smirked as he saw Will look back over his shoulder, as if wondering how he knew who he was. "There is so little water on our planet; almost all of it is under ground. I have seen a lake before, though, in a neighbouring kingdom," turning around back to the horizon, he finished his thought, "but I was just a child then."

Will nodded, slowly walking up to the ledge where the young king stood. "So, do you like it here?"

"It is beautiful… but not Yenyae," he chuckled, "but it is lovely. Very lovely."

"Yes. I love it here."

Gemi shook his head. "It is far too cold here."

Will laughed quietly. "Of course it is. You're from a desert planet… I think it's quite temperate."

"Of course you do…" His smile dissipated slowly, a short silence falling over the two of them. "Do you think they will accept my proposal?"

"I think they will… I don't see why they wouldn't."

Gemi nodded, growing quiet. His eyes found the long, red horizon. Then his hand reached up, scratching a small section on his upper arm. His eyes glanced down at it, looking indifferently at his bare skin. "Perhaps winter clothing on my planet is not quite appropriate for here."

Will smirked again. "I still can't believe that your winter clothes cover less of you."

He shrugged. "It is not that much cooler on our planet during the winter. The suns are just farther away." The man sighed, turning around to lean against the ledge.

Will nodded. "So, how are things there?"

"Bad. Very bad, Will," he said quietly, "We are now at war with the Loraynios."

"Since when?"

Gemi turned slowly to look the human in the eye. "Since my father died..."

"Ah."

He turned away, his eyes finding the sky again. It was growing late and stars were starting to peak through the clouds again. Gemi shook his head slowly, sadly. "He did not want to fight for his title; he did not wish to get it back that way. But they attacked us, I had no choice." Riker nodded, but said nothing. "My father was killed in that attack, I took command after that."

"I'm sorry," Will's voice was quiet and the tone respectful. He looked up at Gemi, clearing his throat before saying, "Don't you think, then, that he would want you to earn your own title back without this violence."

Gemi sighed and turned away. "I have never wanted this title, Will. Never. Not even when I was a boy…" his voice trailed off and Will sensed a distance tone in his voice. "But when I was a boy, the title went to my sister… If, Will, if we regain control, I will not be king. I do not want to be king… I want no rule."

"Do you really think they would follow anyone else?"

"They will follow who I follow because that will be my only law."

Will just nodded; he didn't know what else to do. Gemi went quiet and he had nothing to say to the young man. Glancing back into the chamber, he saw that his absence truly wasn't noticed. Lwaxana glanced up- she had probably sensed something from him- and he knew he would no longer be able to escape the argument. "Uh… I have to go and join them again but… I'll see you later." Gemi nodded, watching Will step away. "Uh…" slowly he turned back, "Would you like to see an ocean?"

"I'm sorry?"

"There's an ocean, just… ten kilometers that way." Gemi's eyes followed the man's hand, blue eyes looking over the Betazed city. "Maybe I could take you there later."

A smile came over his lips. "That would be wonderful."

/-/-/-/

/- _**Around the Same Time**_

Commander Kylah sighed, rubbing her eyes as she struggled to keep them opened. "Think if I fell asleep right now, I'd get in trouble?"

The tactical officer, Maitland, laughed. "Probably, but just think of it as only four more hours to go."

"Oh, that makes me feel so much better." Kylah looked up at Maitland as he laughed again. She gave a sloppy smile. "You think I can give you a field promotion and order you to take command of the bridge for four hours so I can go to sleep?"

"No."

"Then what's the point of being a commander?"

"So you-" Maitland's voice was cut off, his face blanching as he looked down at his console.

Kylah straightened, standing and walking behind Maitland. "Report."

He glanced over at her shoulder, then back at his readouts. "Forty-three Breen ships just jumped out of warp. They're heading right for us."

The Commander sighed, rubbing the exhaustion from her face again. When she spoke again, her voice hid any sign of weakness. "Red alert. Get the Captain." Maitland nodded; Kylah rubbed her fingers down the ridges of her nose. Her eyes flickered back up to the Human as she sank into her seat. "Tactical?"

Maitland glanced at her, then back at his hands working the console. "Shields at maximum. Shall I charge phasers and ready torpedoes?"

The Commander paused, looking away from her tactical officer and out at the approaching Breen ships. "What's their status?"

"Shields up. Phasers charged."

"Do it."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Report!" Kylah's head snapped to the side, watching as Captain Data walked onto the bridge from the outdoor corridor.

She stood again; Data walked around her and sank into his chair, checking his personal readout. "Sir," Kylah addressed him; Data glanced at her, "forty-three Breen ships ready to attack."

"Sir," both Data and Kylah looked up at Maitland, "Captain Baylie has just ordered the fleet into action." Kylah looked over and caught Data's eye. With one curt motion, Data nodded, watching silently as his bridge erupted around him. Orders left his mouth without conscious thought; besides him Kylah gave her own orders, standing with her hands on the back of the Helm as she instructed him.

The ship rocked back, he set a foot behind him to catch his balance. Sparks poured down from above him and he flinched at the light. "Full spread!"

"Aye, sir."

"Delta scram." The Helm officer nodded.

A volley of Breen torpedoes pounded on the haul of the ship. Data flinched harder as the sparks grazed his face.

"Fire phasers, full power."

His ship veered left, avoiding a spread of phaser fire. Twisting right, Data felt the ship shudder violently under the stress of four torpedoes. He saw it as it happened. He heard the cracking, saw the ceiling of the bridge begin to tear, but he was powerless to react. The forceshields were in place before the affects were felt.

Data glanced at the Helm officer; he had seen the look of Death's face enough to know it was hopeless.

Kylah's eyes stared up at him. She coughed, blood darkening her lips. Instinct brought his hand to his chest, slapping open a comm. signal. "Transporter room three, I need an emergency transport."

"_Sorry, sir, the transporters are down."_

He fell to his knees, weaving his fingers through hers. "Harper," he called to the air, "I need a medical team up on the bridge."

"_I'll be there in a minute."_

Data looked out at the viewscreen, yelling orders back at Maitland and maneuvers to the Helm, but never letting Kylah's hand go. Ten commands and seven volleys later, he turned his eyes onto Harper's hurried form rushing onto the bridge. She looked at him only once before dropping to her knees. She didn't have to touch Data or push him away for him to give Kylah's hand a final squeeze. He dropped her hand, rising from the ground.

Harper tried to smile at her Commander, but the expression fell short. First ripping her tricorder from her medkit and then scanning Kylah over, Harper simply blinked at the extent of the wounds. She tired to smile again, but turned away to hide her concern, rummaging through the medkit to fish out a dermal regenerator. Her first instinct was to run it over her entire body; she suppressed it, moving instead to heal the bleeding wound that had sliced open her abdomen.

"You're gonna be fine, Commander. We'll get you down to Sickbay as soon as we can." Kylah nodded dully. Harper brushed away the auburn curls from her forehead. "I'll be right back." She stood, stumbling. Harper winced when her wrist jammed on the floor. From the corner of her eye, she watched a console explode in a Lieutenant's face.

Harper skidded to a stop, grinding her teeth at the shot of pain in her arm. "Lieutenant?" He groaned at her voice but looked desperately at her. The ship rocked her violently into the wall as she reached for her medkit. Her eyes darted up, catching the scene playing out on the viewscreen. The _Lonestar_ darted around the debris of some destroyed ship- whether Alliance or Breen, she didn't know- as it ran from a Breen ship. Her mouth dropped, muscles relaxing in shock as four dead hits tore the ship apart. Her jaw clenched, swallowing hard she turned back to her patient.

She smiled softly at the man, only half in a gesture of comfort. Data's voice played over the comm., echoing through the smoke and sparks to her ears. She wasn't sure what he was saying, she was focusing on applying burn gel to the Lieutenant's skin, but she could hear him ordering other ships to reorganize and execute a new plan.

Harper looked up, "Greg!"

"Yeah?"

"Get back to Sickbay. There're going to be a lot more casualties making their way there."

"Yes, ma'am."

The medic nodded, scooping up his medkit. He made it to the door just as the ship rocked to the left and he fell into the doorway. The door didn't close- something had fallen into its way. Harper looked up to make sure he wasn't hurt; suddenly the _Atlas_ was hit again, tossing it back. All she saw was the fire ripping through the corridor, bursting into the bridge.

Harper's eyes widen. "Greg! Greg!" She didn't remember standing and she didn't remember running from the bridge. She did remember the heat and she did remember the smell. She didn't remember treating the wounded and she didn't remember what she thought when she found Greg. She did remember the feel of burnt skin against her arm and she did remember feeling nothing when she looked down at the burnt body.

She never heard Data yell her name, she never saw him blink in regret and she never saw the way a memory from Dekari flashed in his eyes. She never saw the way he blinked away his emotions before turning back to the Helm officer. "Bring us about. Target the lead ship."

/-/-/-/

/- _**A Few Hours After the Battle **_

In the dark crevasses of her office, she could show the emotions she had submerged all day. First it was in the release of a long, slow breath. Second was in the way her eyes fell shut, squinting tightly and pulling her brows together. The third way was her face relaxed and her tongue rolled over her dry lips. The forth was in the way her breath came in short rushed huffs, the way her shoulders shook so subtly that it was unnoticeable, the way her face scrunched against the onslaught. The fifth was the way tears formed on her eyelashes, the way they streamed slowly onto her nose as they fell.

Only hours ago, she had heard about the fate that had befallen the Beta Fleet. It hurt to say that, at first, she had been inclined to brush it off as another attack, unworthy of notice because of its insignificants. It hurt to say that the number of deaths wasn't high enough to fret over, that the loss of ships wasn't impressive enough to note the occasion. It hurt, but it was true.

Weeks ago, Pell had confided in her that she felt out of touch. At the beginning of the war, she cried with each death, she bled with each loss and celebrated with each victory. But, as the years went on and the victories became few and far between and the deaths piled and the losses grew, she could find no more energy to care. She could no longer relate to the officers she encountered, she could no longer take the time to imagine their plight.

As a Betazoid, she despised the war, the death, the pointlessness of it all. But, like all her constituents, she had come to be indifferent to much of it. She had come to be out of touch with the officers and the dead and the wounded and everything except the politics around it. It hurt, but it hurt so much less than living and dying with the war's every breath.

Hours ago, she had heard the news of the Alliance's narrow victory over the Breen. Hours ago, she had simply skimmed the list of dead and the damages wrought from battle. There was no underline under his name, no special notice given to the ship. In death, everyone was the same. No matter the rank, the age, their wealth or lack thereof, they were all simply a name and a number and a condition. There was nothing special done for him, it was not until moments ago that she had heard any news of his fate. Looking back through the list, she noticed it. The _Lonestar_, along with thirty-two other ships she had given no attention to, had been destroyed. All hands had been lost. Her Captain- the fleet's Captain… Captain Baylie had been lost. At the time, she had blinked, nodding curtly as a steady numbness took over.

Sixth was the way she stiffed, opening her teary eyes to the darkening sky. The seventh was the way she straightened, raising her chin to regain composure. The eighth was the way she raised the back of her hand to her cheeks, rubbing away the moisture, using the tips of her fingers to wipe under her eyes. The ninth was the way she stared, defiantly, out the window at the stars. The tenth was the way she readjusted her robes, pivoted on her heels, and marched out the door.


	34. Year 12: 2383, continued again

/-/-/-/

/- _**Around the Same Time**_

"I've been doing a lot of thinking over the past few months," Will began after a long pause. Scuffing the tip of his boot against a protruding rock, he glanced up slowly, meeting the vivid blue eyes of the new king. Gemi said nothing; he merely cocked his head to the side, waiting for Will to elaborate. "When we were on your planet, one day as we came back from the ship?" Gemi nodded to say he understood, "You were telling Dr. Crusher about an alliance. An alliance between the Yenyarians and three other races." Gemi's eyes gazed off to the right, then he nodded again, recalling that day.

Riker took a long breath, gathering his thoughts as he searched for a way to explain the gapping holes in his theory. "I've been thinking… You said one of the races became corrupt and began… having problems with one of the other races?"

"Yes, the Kan'int'sau and the Tet'int'trel."

"Yeah… You mentioned a name? A name of a leader, or general, or something…?"

Gemi eyed him for a moment, glancing back at the water, preferring to watch the foam disappear on the wet sand. "Do you mean General Ignoi?" The Yenyarian glanced at him, but Will was focused too on the dark sand. He merely shook his head. "Sarwar Trou, then?"

Will shook his head slowly, fighting through the foggy haze, desperately searching for the familiar word that had struck him one night weeks before Gemi's arrival. "Maybe… I don't know… you said some name and it sounded… familiar?"

"I do not know what other name I may have told you. There were not many others that stand out now… Why are you suddenly curious about this?"

"Something about that name, it made me think of the Ketrelians."

"Ketrelians?"

"Yes. They are apparently the long, lost members of a race the Mikolians were once at war with."

"I am not sure-"

"At war, Gemi? Don't you get it? The Ketrelians were originally the Hytorians, they left Hytor Settlement after the Mikolians slaughtered them thousands of years ago. How long ago with this accident? The war? All that?"

Gemi sighed, rubbing his neck. He turned to find Will's eyes, desperate for someone to lift the burden of a frustrating puzzle off his mind. "I… I was very young then."

"You can't be telling me that it was only fifteen, twenty years ago. I know it wasn't."

Gemi shook his head as a small smile graced his lips. "For spending so much time with us, you truly learned little. Do you know how old I am?"

"I was thinking twenty-six, but now I'm not so sure."

"In your years, I am… just over eleven thousand years old." Will couldn't help but let out a low whistle. "I was nearing my one thousandth year when the war began; the accident was not much later. I think perhaps fifty or so years later."

"Wow… so then, the timeframe works out, huh?"

The Yenyarian blinked and, after a silent pause, he nodded, "Your Mikolians and Ketrelians could very well be our former allies."

Will opened his mouth to continue, still desperate to find answers to fill the final pieces of the ancient puzzle. He was silenced, however, at the _sudden_ appearance of Lwaxana's Trill aid. "Excuse me, Admiral, Tan Qui, but Ambassador Troi has just hailed us. Tan Qui's presence has been requested in the Council Chambers." Will looked over to the young king, hoping that his expression was less bleak than Gemi's. He tilted his head to the side, gesturing that they should follow Tayd to the shuttle pod.

As Will's foot dug into the sandy slope, he couldn't help but find himself back nearly two years ago on the desert planet Yenyae. "What about the last race?" he found himself saying, shooting a curious glance at Gemi to see if he heard.

Gemi blinked. "The g'Ni'to?"

"Yeah… that couldn't by any chance be the same as the Gnitaek? Telepathic? Blind, mute?" Gemi turned to look at him as he walked casually up the sand hill, Tayd only a few paces ahead. The king only smirked, his eyes darting with amusement before he turned back to face the ship.

/-/-/-/

/- _**A Few Days Later**_

"Personal Log. Stardate: 38307.18.

"It seems impossible to get a straight answer out of Gemi. After Lwaxana's aid took us back to the consulate, I tried a couple of times to talk to the kid about the Gnitaek. He wouldn't say anything. Just smiled and went back to whatever he was doing. I figure I'll just take that as a yes…

"So, if I've got this right, the Mikolians hate the Ketrelians- who were once the Hytorians- for reasons I don't really know. Then they killed some general- goddamn! Sarwar Trou, I saw his picture at Nicop. Scartin told me about him. Well, I feel better now, figuring that out.

"Anyway, they hated each other and were at war. The Yenyarians tried to help by building a weapon. The plan backfired and damaged their world. Apparently, the war between the Mikolians and the Hytorians continued until they were all forced to leave Hytor Settlement. The Mikolians thought they had ended the war by destroyed them all, which they didn't, but they didn't know that until- a couple thousand years later- when we told them different.

"And the Gnitaek seemed to have just receded into their own territory throughout the entire _drama_ and just never came out of it. At least it explains why they gave us those shield configurations, which Starfleet engineering corps, by the way, have just figured out how to replicate. The first couple are being installed in several ships that are heading to Dekari next month. Hopefully it'll give our guys a helping hand in that area.

"On a similar note, Gemi's proposal was accepted. Some of the High Command wasn't too happy about giving up our limited materials, but looking at some of those schematics, it was well worth it. Most of it won't be put into action for a couple of months- maybe longer- but it could certainly be a great advantage on our part if we can make it compatible. There's also schematics for pulse rifles- that'll go a long way on occupied planets. The epsilon fleet will appreciate it, I'm sure…

"Tomorrow is another meeting- just the High Command. We've got to prioritize what we just got. Shuffle it around to who needs it most, who has the time and resources to make it work. That kind of thing…

"One last thing I'd like to add to this. Captain Baylie's absence was filled in by Captain Cregg, a… distinguished member of the Beta fleet. She actively participated in the meetings with Gemi Tan via holographic link while Baylie was engaged with a Breen warship… Word has just gotten to me that the _Lonestar_ was destroyed in that battle. Captain Baylie was a good man, and an excellent commanding officer, it's a shame. Another fine officer gone because of this damn war…"

/-/-/-/

/- _**The Next Day**_

The feeling was much like an out of body experience. Riker knew that he still inhabited his well worn office chair and not the stiff one placed along the High Command conference table. He could easily have beamed down and sat there for real, but after a late night with his family and an even later night of work, he had simply not retired to bed. Conversing with them for hours via hologram was much less of a strain.

It didn't surprise him that he was earlier than the rest. Reclining back, he gazed around at the false aura- a holographic image transmitted to his ready room. The device was fascinating but so much more disorienting.

He stood slowly, carefully maneuvering around the room. By the time he made it to the replicator and called out for a coffee, two others had materialized. Captain Black took a moment to bow his head at Riker, and Riker nodded back; Admiral Hilger ignored him in favour of taking a seat. As Riker approached, he noticed their left arms. Both the Gamma and Delta fleets had become so spread out over the years, they had come to adopt a tradition of Epsilon fleet- on their arms they supported a patch to distinguish their fleet, their division, and their ship. On the Admiral's arm, his patch was simply that of the Gamma Fleet; on Captain Black's arm he supported the signature image of the Delta Fleet and of his own ship.

When he pulled his eyes away, he noticed that Admiral Vo'lan- the Admiral of Vulcan- and Admiral Gregori Vasilii- the Admiral of Vigo- had both arrived in their holographic form. Shortly after, Admiral Keshna materialized, sending a soft smile his way. Even after her reassignment as Admiral of Trill, she still contacted Riker occasionally, asking for updates of the crew. He didn't think it wise for the Trill to stay so attached to the crew of _Enterprise_, but he couldn't help feeling pride in his crew for impressing her so greatly.

For a moment, Riker couldn't help but feel the mood of the room dim in the presence of Admiral Jackson, Betazed's Admiral and a long time annoyance for Riker. But the moment passed and Riker refocused himself. The Bolius Admiral arrived and with him, an air of amusement- Atli Du'art had a way of lightening the tension during meetings.

A few minutes later, the image of Captain Griffin fluttered into life, blinking and distorting every time he moved and occasionally when he spoke. No one complained simply because there was no one to repair the problem.

"Who are we missing?" Riker looked around, finding that sure enough there was one opened seat.

"Captain Baylie's replacement."

Admiral Jackson huffed and Riker rose a brow at him. Looking across the way at Admiral Keshna, he found a curious smirk on her lips, one Riker had seen a few times in the past but never before had he understood it. He turned his eyes back to the seat, assuming that Captain Cregg had simply been detained and that, within the following moments, would appear as all the others had.

As nearly two minutes ticked by, Admiral Jackson began to fidget in his chair and a bored chatter began to grow throughout the room, Riker's gaze flickered between Keshna's face and the empty chair.

Suddenly a voice sounded behind him, silencing the buzz of voices at the table. "I apologize for my tardiness, Admirals, Captains. There was suspicious activity near Galios that I wished to keep an eye on."

"It's no problem, Captain. Please, have a seat."

The voice alone had perked his ears. Riker turned his head, watching with amazement as the missing member sank into the empty seat. Yellow eyes looked up into his startled blue orbs and slowly a smile began to brighten them.

"It's good to see you're doing all right, Data."

"And you, Admiral."

Riker smirked at him, shaking his head. He'd heard about Data's citations for his actions and courage displayed against the Breen, but never in his wildest dreams had he thought Data would be promoted into Baylie's position. He smiled wider, nodding approvingly and for a long time he couldn't believe that the man before him was the same creature he had met so many years ago whistling in a holodeck.

/-/-/-/

/- _**October, Three Months Later**_

Full black material clung tightly to the length of his body, complimenting his lean form. A red strip wrapped around his body, beginning from beneath his left armpit, twinning over his stomach and around his right leg. He had never decided if he liked it- he had seen them hundreds of times before on Alliance officers. But standing there in a borrowed room, he ran his hands over his front, smoothing it down, as he looked at his reflection in the mirror.

For years- much of his life- he had dreamed of graduating into Alliance Fleet, fighting on some starship in the war. Looking at himself, he marvelled at how old the uniform made him look, how mature. He couldn't believe that he was finally wearing the uniform of an Alliance officer.

He wasn't surprised, or embarrassed, when he looked up at a second reflection in the mirror. She stood silently with her back straight, arms folded over her stomach, and her head cocked just off to the side. She was an eccentric woman, but he had found most Betazoid shared several of her idiosyncrasies. But she had housed him when she felt obligated to and, even though, she had been kind to him, answering his questions about the war, about politics. She had told him- begged him- to consider a career in her field rather than joining the fleet. He appreciated the concern, but he didn't want it, didn't feel that he deserved it.

Lwaxana watched him as he became comfortable in his new skin. She was watching his identity slowly being suppressed right before her eyes, watching as a young man she had grown to admire drifted into a world of statistics. She didn't know when, but at some point in the last ten years, Alliance Fleet had done away with cadet uniforms and placed the young officers into real uniforms. It happened because it was no longer worth the waste to produce two separate types of uniforms. To most, this meant it was inefficient. To her, it meant it was just easier to shift them out of their second year of school and onto ships and into service.

"You ready?"

He didn't turn; instead he continued to hold her gaze through the mirror. He bowed his head once, glancing himself over once again before he turned away. Heaving a sigh, he sought out his bag- he had come with few belongings and had collected far fewer over his eight month stay. He tossed the strap over his shoulder, adjusting it several times, getting it perfect before he turned to face Lwaxana.

"Yeah…" He fidgeted, eyes darting around the room as he desperately sought the words he needed to articulate his thoughts, his ragging emotions. "Thanks for everything, Mrs. Troi… I, um-"

"I know. You don't have to thank me, Gavil." Her head bobbed to the side, her hand reaching out to beckon him closer. The Vigolian hesitated, leaning forward until he started walking. Her hand grazed across his back, pulling him into a hug. He held her loosely- touching wasn't largely a part of Vigolian culture. Slowly Lwaxana pulled away, leaving her hand on his back. "The kids are waiting downstairs. They want to say good-bye." Gavil nodded, letting her hand steer him forward. He hadn't gotten closer to the children than any babysitter might, but he had come to cherish their little smiles and quirks. He would miss them but he wasn't interested in staying.

Chamberlain grinned up at him from the base of the stairs; Liz was far more solemn, but she brightened when she saw him standing above them. She was growing up fast, so was her brother. For a fleeting moment, he wondered if he would ever see the two children again. The thought passed before he allowed Lwaxana to hear it as well; he smiled down at the children and banished all doubts for a time.

/-/-/-/

/- _**Around the Same Time**_

Ken shot a look over his shoulder at the Breen Ambassador as the President's aide scurried into the office. He shifted his weight, glancing the Breen over. He had heard all kinds of stories about what the alien looked like hidden under the heavy suit and mask. He'd also heard that it both heated and cooled the alien, but he wasn't sure which he believed. But no rumour had ever made it to his ears about whether or not the Ambassador was male or female- or whether or not there were males or females. He just referred to the Ambassador as it.

"Excuse me, Mr. President," the young aide's voice drifted from the office to Ken's ears, "the Breen Ambassador would like a word."

"Let him in."

"Ambassador Smith is with him."

"Yes, yes. Both of them."

The aid stepped through the door. Ken looked up at him when he beckoned them inside with a nod of his head. The Breen Ambassador cocked its head to the side, making a clicking noise before it stepped inside in front of Ken. The Human sighed, arching his brow and flowing the alien inside.

Amen sat on his stool, which didn't surprise the Human. He grunted, shifting to look away from the President. After a few moments his eyes strayed back to Amen's arm as it streaked the brush over the canvas, smudging broken lines of red in its wake. Ken watched as he lowered the brush, dapping it a glob of purple. The brush spread a thin layer over a blue and green foundation.

Ken blinked, sighed, and arched his brow. He tucked his hands into his pockets and waited only a moment before asking, "Mr. President?"

The President didn't look up. Instead he took a moment to put down his brush and pallet, wiping his hands on the dirty cloth he had draped across his thigh as he appreciated his work. It took a few minutes longer before he looked up at the Ambassadors. "What can I do for you, Ambassador?"

Ken looked to Breen Ambassador as he began to speak. Ken heard first the clicking sounds of the Breen language, an echoing of his real words before a computer-like voice was translated into English, "We need Na'Eboin."

"Na'Eboin? We understand that it's necessary to power your weapons, but… don't you already have that in an abundance?"

"No." Ken swallowed at the eeriness of the echoing.

"Mr. Ambassador, you can't be suggesting-"

"Only in Romulan space can we find more Na'Eboin."

"And we have no jurisdiction in Romulan space."

The Breen Ambassador straightened. "We need Na'Eboin to continue your war."

"Yes. Well it's your war as well and right now I'm not comfortable getting the Romulans involved. You'll have to find something else."

"There is nothing else. We need Na'Eboin."

"And I'm telling you, we can't go to the Romulans. Ambassador Smith will show you out. Thank-you."

Ken sighed, looking to the Breen Ambassador in hopes that he wouldn't continue to press the issue. He took a step towards Amen, "Thank-you, Mr. President." Looking to the Breen, the alien bowed its head silently. He looked over at Ken, who gestured to the door, "This way." Ken spared a last look at the President before retreating outside. The Breen was already walking away, its hand rising to its mask. The Human furrowed his brows as he watched the Breen pause in its walking. Tilting his head to his side, Ken tried to disconcert what was being said but it was all in the clicking sounds of the Breen language. When the Breen's hand dropped, it looked back at Ken. Ken's eyes dropped to the floor, then glanced into the President's office, before _glancing_ up the Breen Ambassador. It seemed to grunt then turned away.

/-/-/-/

/- _**Around the Same Time**_

"Personal Log. Stardate, 38310.23.

"I know that it's been years, but I just found an old box hiding in my quarters. Well… It… it's some of the few items of Captain Picard that have managed to survive." Will looked down at his hands, watching his fingers trace the soft leather, tracing the binding to the gold letters printed over it. "This was one of his favourite books. I always used to see him reading it…"

Carefully, he cracked the cover up, shuffling through the pages until he happened upon a bookmarked page. His eyes scanned the page, unsure of what he might be looking for. Finally his eyes caught a passage; he heard his voice echoing the words throughout the room. "_'Hoarse, booming drums of the regiment/ Little souls who thirst for fight/ These men were born to drill and die/ The unexplained glory flies above them/ Great is the battle- god, great, and his kingdom -- A field where a thousand corpses lie'_…

"… That was Stephen Crane. One of his poems… I'm not sure why Picard liked this book so much; I was never much of a poetry person… I'm not even sure why I'm saying all this…

"Outpost 84-alpha, a Romulan outpost on the neutral zone, was destroyed last night. Reports estimate seventy Romulan officers were on board.

"This morning we got new reports- the same attack force that destroyed the outpost took over a mining complex about three lightyears into the neutral zone. Our intelligence on the Romulan front thinks the Breen have control."

Riker sighed. He rubbed his eyes, shaking his head as if to force away the exhaustion. His finger still held his place in the book. Even after all it's many years, his fingertips still felt the tiny grains of the paper, though the ink had begun to fade from Picard's once frequent use.

"'_Do not weep, babe, for war is kind/ Because your father tumbled in the yellow trenches/ Raged at his breast, gulped and died/ Do not weep/ War is kind'_…"

/-

Hope you enjoyed. I'll be back in two weeks to give you the next year.

By the way, the poem I quote was Stephen Crane's, "War is Kind". Had to read it in class and it seemed kind of fitting.


	35. Year 13: 2384

_Author's Note:_ I've finally returned! So here's the next year. Hope you enjoy!

**/-/- **

**Year 13: 2384**

"Admiral's Log. Stardate: 38401.19.

"Reports are coming back that the Romulans just had their first major battle against the Breen… That's all we have- that it happened- the Romulans won't release any other numbers to us… But then we did we expect really?

"The Romulans officially declared war on the Breen four days ago and then on Earth and the Mikolian Empire for their association with the Breen a day later. The Alliance Council are currently in talks with the Romulans, trying to convince them of a truce…

"If we could get the Romulans on our side… They're fresh. They've been relatively unharmed by this war so far. We could offer them the upgrades their going to need to win this one. But somehow I don't think they'll accept the offer, not for a while any way. They're far too paranoid for their own good, they'll never accept any deal we give them…

"They've been in meetings ever since the Romulans declared war. Four days… Nothing's been decided yet…"

/-/-/-/

/- _**Mid January**_

It wasn't like her to feel so mad, so upset, so enraged, so… so pissed off. It had been a long time since she had to fight down the urge to throw something, to calm the impulse to slam the door as she walked through it, to keep from chucking her coat to the floor, to keep from sending any and all expletives she knew through a mental link to Homn.

She had been moulding her craft for several decades and in that time she had been faced with some of the most pompous, most arrogant, and most cold hearted bastards. She had battled Vulcans, Bolians, Klingons, and aliens with names she couldn't even pronounce, and never had she felt so lost, so beaten.

In the past she had managed by walking out the door, taking a moment to breath deeply, take a moment's time to fume, to rant inside her mind or perhaps to Pell or another confidant, and then, with a second breath, it would roll off her body. Her mind would calm, her body would relax, and a new game plan would come to mind and once again she was ready to take on the universe and all it's many complexities.

But not that day. Not that battle. Unlike their distant cousins, the Romulans could not always be made to see reason and logic. And, at the same time, it was never easy to play to their emotions. They weren't an overtly violent race, nor were they easily bribed or goaded into an agreement. They weren't supremely logical, not in a way she could easily play too. She had, of course, dealt with them before, but it was a rare incident.

After all her years of moulding, of learning to take only a cursory glance at a person and knowing how to play them, she was stumped. It had surmounted to nothing in her newest challenge. They agreed to nothing and they offered little in return. They bickered and argued and she didn't always know what it was about or where they intending on going. She couldn't debate that, she couldn't twist that. She felt, at every moment of those meetings, that she was loosing it. It was a return to her earlier years- back when she was wet behind the ears and in a constant state of catching up. She couldn't read people so simply, she couldn't command the room to her attention on a whim, she couldn't raise her voice over the rest and have it become the only sound heard. And once again this was repeating itself. And it disturbed her; disturbed her to think that she had so little control over her chambers, over her negotiations.

She wanted to be allowed to have a tantrum. At her age, with what she had dealt with, she felt as if she deserved it. Just once. She just wanted to pick up that vase and throw it. To feel the build up of every emotion when she tensed, readying herself. To feel the relief of stress that left her body when she twisted and let go. To hear the gratifying crash as it shattered against the wall and crashed to the floor. To feel the utter lack of emotion after it had all drained from her body. She wanted to let go of demeanour and just do it. She wanted to stop resisting the urges, the temptations, to use her energy for something better.

It might have been her rational brain that took over, or it might have been her reasoning that forced her stubborn will to take charge, or it just might have been the two children who ran in, laughing as if the rest of the world wasn't in chaos and the universe existed merely within the house boundaries. It might have simply been their laughter, the pureness, the calming effect it had, or the joy it resonated throughout the halls. It might have been Deanna's curious glance. It might have been the memories, the joy, the laughter, the peacefulness. She would never know.

/-/-/-/

/- _**Around the Same Time**_

Behind her, the noise escalated, but she was in a world of her own, trapped with her thoughts and her emotions swirling around her. Her eyes drifted shut, fluttering against the images of charred bodies, against the sight of destruction. A slow huff of air passed between tight lips.

"Ensign, full spread. Take out that ship."

"Aye, sir."

Red tears streamed away, rolling down the side of the other ship.

Kira had to shift her weight at the sudden rocking. She watched the viewscreen, noting the way the Dax swung the ship through the debris and attacking ships with such developed skill. She shifted her weight again, using the new found balance to walk to Dax's side. Her hand gripped the chair. She yelled out an attack pattern, but her voice were a whisper against Dax's ears. The Trill only nodded, her eyes focused on her own hands.

The Captain stepped away, rubbing at a sore spot under her eye as she made her way back to tactical. He already knew what was expected of him, but she yelled his orders to him again. He was young and she worried about communication.

Her feet took her back to the centre, planting her firmly in place even as the inertial dampeners compensated for only half of the curving and looping Dax was forcing the ship to do.

She stumbled forward then. Feeling first the shock against her feet, then the feeling of being suspended from nothing, and finally the pain that shot through her wrists and arms when her body found the ground. Common sense ordered her to remain still. Four deep breaths and then she thought through her body. Pain was still coursing through her wrists, she could feel the bruise starting in her temple. Another four deep breaths and she could hear the world dizzily above her. Two more and she began to brace herself for getting up. Three and she was forcing herself onto her knees, her face contorting at the pain. Two more and she was steady on her knees. Six more before she managed to be standing again.

Kira swayed for a moment, trying to shake off the dizziness that was threatening to overcome her. Her eyes darting around, assessing the damage. Four bulkheads had fallen, but she had lost track of when each had gone down over the past two hours. Sparks shot over her head- she was almost sure that they hadn't been there before. Her eyes made their way towards Helm- Jadzia was back in her seat, one hand massaging a bruise on her temple the other steadying the ship. Her next objective was tactical- the Ensign was on the ground and, from where she was standing, he wasn't moving.

Cool green eyes stared for a moment. When she was very young, the sight of dead bodies had scared her, unnerved her. But it had been a long time since she had been an innocent child and it had been a long time since she had cried for the charred remains of anyone.

"Lieutenant Rimes! Take charge of tactical!" A Bajoran who had just managed to make it to his feet nodded towards Kira and made his way awkwardly across the bridge.

"Dax, alpha pattern omega!"

"I'm on it!"

"Lieutenant! Phasers, target the main Breen ship!"

The Lieutenant's answer was lost in the chaos of her bridge. A different sound had taken her notice. A low hissing. It was almost masked by the dull bleating of the red alert and the constant reminder of sparks and explosions. But it was there. Her body spun in uncertain circles as she tried to find the direction.

A smell caught her nose. She had forgotten the smell of burned and rotting corpses- she had become so immune to them. But in between the smoke and flames, it was there. A sickeningly sweet smell. She could taste it on her lips.

Her hand smacked the commbadge on her chest, her mouth moving almost franticly to get the words out. "Chief! I need you up on the bridge now!"

"_I'm kind of busy down here!"_

"We've got a Maluctus leak up here! I need you now!"

There was only a momentary pause before he responded, _"I'll be right there."_

She could feel the burning of eyes on her back. Several people had heard the urgency in her voice, a few even the words that had caused it, but they all knew the implications. Kira turned to look back out the viewscreen, her eyes catching Dax's brief glance.

The time passed swiftly from one moment to the next- Kira never noted how long it took for Miles to make his way up from engineering to the bridge. She hardly noticed his arrival. She had however observed almost obsessively how much more prominent the sweet smell had grown and how much louder the hissing had become. She was certain the bridge crew was aware by then, if they hadn't been before.

The man skidded to a halt the moment he made it inside. A tricorder was already in his hand, his eyes looking for the problem. Kira watched the battle unfold rather than Miles perform his duty.

Minutes passed and Miles was still crotched near a conduit. The smell had grown worse, sweeter, sicklier. She could feel herself becoming light-headed, her eyes droopier, it was taking longer to make decisions. The affects of the Maluctuswere becoming harder to ignore.

Kira's eyes strayed over to Miles' form. He wiped at his forehead again, shaking his head in an effort to brush off the Maluctus's affects. She knew that, to Miles, a minute of failure would forever outshine his lifetime of triumphs. In that moment, he had one chance to get it right. She knew that he was fighting against the failure of judgment and concentration.

"Captain!"

"Lieutenant?!"

"I'm reading thirty-two Klingon ships twenty seconds away!"

She could only nod. She had requested Klingon support two hours ago when the Breen fleet had appeared in Bajoran space. But Dekari was just as much of a mess as DS9 was and they hadn't been able to leave the battle. And so, two hours and twenty-seven Alliance ships later, there was their support. Thirty battle weary Klingon cruisers.

Kira let her eyes drift shut, let herself feel the light-headedness, let the tension run from her body. All around her, the noise ebbed away and she rejoined a world of trapped emotions and frantic thoughts. A slow breath passed her lips and she opened her eyes to find the Klingons appear from nothingness.

/-/-/-/

/- _**February, A Week Later**_

It was his home, the only place he had ever known. And, if he thought about it, the death and the destruction and the danger and the fighting was all he had ever known. His world- the station- had hardly in his short life experienced a long duration of peace.

JJ rolled his tongue over his dried lips, sullen eyes surveying his home. Sparks fluttered overhead, he only blinked at them. Debris covered the ground, soot and dust covered the walls and the floors and everything. Carts littered the promenade, the corridors, the habit, ready to be filled with the grotesque reminders of war.

To see such pain inflicted on his home hurt him for he was slowly coming to the age when he understood that there were other ways to live. He hadn't grown up constantly afraid of such attacks; in truth he simply accepted them as fact. He hadn't grown up disgusted by the sight of blood staining his father's clothes, but he had never thought farther of where it came from or why it was there. He had just accepted these things as truths. Looking out at the damage, at the solemn faces, at the pack near his feet and both his and his brother's best clothes on their bodies, he was coming to understand how mistaken he was.

JJ's head tipped dangerously back until his eyes were able to rest on his father. He was standing almost perfectly still, gazing out at the damaged promenade, unseeing and unmoving. JJ had few negative memories of his father, but he had many memories of his father utterly heartbroken. They came when a patient died, when he didn't get home until after bedtime and JJ snuck from his room to see him. They had increased gradually over the years. Looking at the image of a forlorn man staring off over his destroyed home was one of the last memories that JJ ever had of him.

Seventy eight people had died. JJ knew that because he had read it on the PADD his father had dropped. Seventy eight people- JJ wasn't even sure if he knew that many people the number seem so high to him. He didn't know how many others had died on those other ships, and quite frankly he had no desire to know. There had been attacks before; he knew then that he had been in danger most all of his life. He had even learned that once his parents had been so afraid, they had sent him away to live with Mrs. O'Brien and her two children on Betazed. His parents were sending Ty and him back to Betazed, only that time they wouldn't be allowed to stay with Mrs. O'Brien. They would have to live with some other family.

JJ looked away from his father. Closing his eyes, the image was burned into his mind, a scolding reminder of his ignorance. He wanted to understand as desperately as he wished to remain oblivious to all but his own world on the station.

Ty's incessant blabbering finally caught his ears. He didn't look at his little brother, instead he stood with his hands tucked in his pockets, his eyes daringly gazing out the window on the other end of the promenade. Ty didn't fully grasp yet just what was going to happen; he seemed almost delighted in fact. It was a stunning concept for JJ to realize that he had once been as blissfully locked in a state of ignorance, not hanging in his uneducated limbo.

From the corner of his eye, he noticed the shifting of the crowd. People were beginning to board, parents were bidding farewell, spouses kissing good-bye, civilians retreating onto the transport ships. A muscle clenched in his jaw; he didn't want to leave. No matter the danger, he didn't want to be placed in some other home like an orphan, he didn't want to be sent away from a danger he had never before realized. But, as he looked up into his mother's eyes, he couldn't deny her some comfort. His eyes lowered and he let his mother's arms engulf him. His eyes fell closed and he held her tightly before letting go.

Then his father repeated the gesture, pulling away from him before taking JJ's face in his hands. "You're in charge of Ty while you're there? Be a gentleman, okay? You two'll be back just as soon as this whole thing blows over. You hear me?" JJ's head bobbed up and down. His father nodded with him. "Okay. We'll see you again soon."

He nodded again, eyeing the man who had grabbed their bags. His mother kissed his cheek again and he didn't bother to feign disgust. For the first time, Ty seemed to understand that something was wrong. JJ just grabbed his hand and led him into the line, ushering him to his seat before he could begin to complain. Mrs. O'Brien was nearby and Molly sighed dramatically as she was placed in the seat beside him. Yoshi smiled from across the aisle. JJ just sighed and leaned his forehead into the window. He wished, sometimes, that age didn't bring knowledge.

/-/-/-/

/- _**The Next Day**_

His eyes darted over the scenery, taking in the expansive property as they approached. He shot a look at Ty, his brother's fingers starting to pinch his with their increasing strength, before he turned his attention back to the grounds. The house itself was so large, he couldn't see what might be behind it. He couldn't honestly say that he had seen many houses- he had only ever visited Bajor a few times and they were all beautiful but modest- but he had never seen anything the likes of the one before him.

Blue eyes darted between the Betazoid- Mr. Edik - and the house, occasionally checking on his brother beside him. Mr. Edik tapped the door chime, smiling down at them as he waited for the door to open. He took a deep breath, realizing that in a moment he was about to meet the person who he would have to live with. He allowed his mind to wander as he waited, wondering who could possibly live in such a house. He thought that they must be rich- someone of prominence or importance on Betazed. He hoped that maybe they were young and had a child his age, or Ty's age.

It took only a moment of pondering to meet them. The door slid open and before them stood a beautiful woman, dark locks falling over her shoulders, soft caring eyes looking down at them. She smiled in greeting first to Mr. Edik before turning her attention to the two young boys. JJ smiled back at her, Ty's hand gripped his harder. New people scared him because he had a hard time seeing them because of his disease.

She knelt down in front of them; Ty shuffled to hide behind him. The woman smiled, and JJ knew that she easily sensed his fear. Her eyes seemed to run over them, taking in their pale spots running down their faces, their dark hair and blue eyes. JJ looked away, suddenly blushing at the inspection.

"You," she turned with a smile to Ty, not daring to reach out and touch him though JJ thought it might be her instinct to do so, "must be Tylus." His head bobbed up and down and JJ noticed a smile playing on his lips. She smiled at him, then turned to look at JJ. "And you're-"

He straightened, cutting her off with, "Jonathon James Bashir," before extending his hand to her, "But everyone just calls me JJ." She glanced down at him hand with a bemused smirk and he worried for a moment that she might not know about the human gesture.

"Deanna Riker," she replied, taking his hand in hers and shaking it lightly. "Pleasure."

"Mrs. Riker? Just put your thumb print here, please." She rose slowly, taking the PADD from Mr. Edik. The man bowed his head as she returned it. Mrs. Riker smiled at him, touching his arm gently as he turned away. Mr. Edik smiled down at the two boys before retreating back to the transport shuttle. JJ looked back, watching him disappear into the shuttle. Mrs. Riker ushered him inside the house before he could watch it leave.

Hours later, he sat in a bed across from Ty, eyes labouring to remain open. He had met Mrs. Riker's mother not long after they had arrived. He found her to be an interesting woman with elaborately flowing outfits and twisted, braided hair that seemed incapable of moving from the top of her head. She had mentioned that she had visited the station a few times; she'd even told Ty and him a funny story about Constable Odo.

Mrs. Riker also had two children. He'd met her daughter. Elizabeth- or just Liz to most people. She was thirteen and beginning her "better than little kids" stage of life. She was polite and very pretty, but JJ didn't care for girls. His father had told him to wait a few more years and that would change. JJ had just rolled his eyes. Her son, Chamberlain, was a year older than him but was over at some friend's house.

JJ sighed, tossing down the PADD in his hand. He sat up in his bed, looking over to his brother. "Ty? Ty?" he whispered, but the boy didn't answer. JJ sighed again, looking around before deciding to hop down. Carefully he slipped away from the room.

He looked in half awe at everything around him. He had seen it all once already, but still it amazed him. Plants weren't a rarity on the station, but never before had he seen so many decorating a single room. It made him remember that there was real ground beneath his feet.

JJ would admit to feeling exhilarated by the thought of living away from home and on another planet. He didn't mind being thrust into a new society or home, but it didn't stop him from wanting to return home to the station. And he was worried about Ty, as well. He was only three and seemed terrified. While Ty had never left their home on the station, JJ had once been on Betazed. That time, it had been nearly ten months before he was able to return home.

JJ stepped off the last stair, hand still clutching to the railing as he wondered where to go. Without a destination in mind, he simply turned down the hallway, walking quietly so that he wouldn't disturb anyone. On the station, it was just dinnertime. He wasn't hungry- he'd eaten with the Trois earlier- but he wasn't ready to go to sleep. Outside it was already dark- on the station it was always dark outside.

"Who're you?"

The voice startled him. He tore his eyes away from the window, gasping in a breath, eyes darting around to find the owner. A young boy stood in one of the doorways, a glass held between his two hands as he leaned against the wall with a smug ease.

"JJ Bashir. I'm from Deep Space Nine."

The boy watched him for a moment longer. "Chamberlain Riker." For a moment, silence descended over the two. JJ took the time to observe the boy, Chamberlain. He wore his dark hair long, letting it fall over his brown eyes. But even hidden, he held a piercing stare. JJ was surprised to see such warm eyes capable of such utter coolness.

"What kind of clothes are those?"

"Huh?" JJ looked down at himself. He wore a tight fitting suit, the legs dark blue and the chest alternating between green and blue. His eyes rose to find that Chamberlain was dressed, not in a suit, but rather loose, robe-like clothes. JJ just shrugged. "It's what I've always worn."

"You're an AF brat, eh?" Again, JJ just shrugged. He had heard the term before, but he had never heard it said with such contempt. "My dad's in Alliance Fleet. He's the Admiral of the Alpha Fleet and lives on the _Enterprise_."

"My mum captains the _Defiant_ sometimes, but she's really Aunt Nerys- I mean, Captain Kira's first officer. And my Da's the CMO on the station, and sometimes on the _Defiant_."

"Deep Space Nine, you said?"

"Yeah."

"There's some bad fighting near there. I guess that's why you're here, eh?" JJ just shrugged. "You're Trill, right?"

"My mum's a Trill."

Chamberlain rocked on his heels, "And you're dad's not?"

"No. He's human."

"So's my dad," he said offhandedly, sipping at the green liquid in his glass. "My mom's half human."

"You're only a forth Betazoid… and you live here?"

"You're not Betazoid and you're here," Chamberlain said, but then shrugged, "I guess there's nowhere else. Everyone comes here to stay safe from the war. You and your brother aren't the first to stay here."

JJ nodded. "Ever been anywhere else?"

"Another planet? No. Just this one."

"I've only been to two planets." Chamberlain looked at him, his face poised but waiting for JJ to continue. "I was born on DS9. I came here when I was two for a while when it wasn't safe- like now- and I've been to Bajor a few times with Aunt Nerys, but that's it."

"Never been to Trill?"

"No."

Both boys quieted; Chamberlain rocked on his heels again, leaning harder into the wall; JJ awkwardly placed his hands behind his back, looking back out the window.

"What does JJ stand for?"

The suddenness of the question didn't startle JJ. He looked back at Chamberlain, the boy just watched him and waited. "Jonathon James. No one but Aunt Nerys calls me Jonathon."

Chamberlain seemed to think about that for a moment before he asked, "Can I call you James?"

"Why?"

"I don't know. I kind of like it," he answered with a shrug. "It's a nice, British name." JJ's brows folded together and Chamberlain shrugged, "I recognize the accent."

The Trill just shrugged. "Okay. Can I ask you something?"

"What?"

"What's your middle name?"

"Jean-Luc. Why?"

"Well, if you get to call me James, I'm calling you Jean-Luc."

Chamberlain just chuckled at the thought. "Sure, James."

"Thanks, Jean-Luc."

/-/-/-/

/- _**May, Three Months Later**_

"Wow, never thought I'd see the Romulans come back to the table," Pell smirked, glancing over her shoulder at Lwaxana.

The Betazoid just shook her head. "I don't care about how shocking this turn of events is, I just hope it's a brief one."

"They're about to crush their dignity. Of course this is going to be brief."

Lwaxana gave the Trill one final look before sweeping her way into the Council Chambers, confident that the other four were behind her. Two figures loomed at the far end of the hall. She could hear the harshness of their whispers, but couldn't make out any of the words spoken. It took a few moments for them to become aware of the others in the room. Both quieted and turned; Lwaxana was easily able to identify the one as the Romulan Ambassador they had met with before. He was an old member of Romulan politics for Lwaxana remembered a day when he once held the position of Ambassador to the Federation- the whole Federation. Now he was sent as a Romulan voice to the Alliance. Beside him was a Romulan officer, easily spotted by the harsh grey clothing he wore. A different officer had come in his place before.

"Please, sit," she made a sweeping gesture towards the chairs. After the Romulans seemed to have accepted the officer, she paced towards hers, sweeping back her long robes and perching on the edge. "You wanted to speak with us?'

The Romulan shifted in his seat, an awkward gesture of his that she had noted years ago. And yet, even as he wiggled, he never lost eye contact or seemed to portray embarrassment. "Our leaders have discussed the matter thoroughly and have sent us here to discuss an alliance between our two governments."

Lwaxana turned her head towards Pell, an eyebrow raised subtly. Turning back to the Romulan, "Three months later, that's all you have to say?"

"The agreement originally discussed will be acceptable."

She returned his gaze for a long moment until she grew bored trying to impress him. Her eyes darted over to the General. "Just out of curiosity, what makes this deal suddenly so good?" Even as the words left her mouth, she could sense the irritation of her fellow council members. Internal, Pell moaned, but Lwaxana knew it was never seen in her face.

Again, the Romulan Ambassador shifted his weight. "We are not prepared for the improvements made on the Federation starships or for the power of the Mikolian vessels."

Lwaxana's eyes remained focused on the General. She knew, for the simple stereotype that had plagued the Romulans, that the General was a proud man, dignified officer with an impeccable record. She knew, simply because of that, that he was embarrassed to be sitting there, bordering begging them to reconsider what they had originally rejected. There was something in his eyes that, as she watched, drew her in. She felt herself almost compelled to lean forward; physically she didn't move, but her mind reached out, grazing the edges of his. When no resistance forced her back, her curiosity forced her deeper.

Silence. The stillness felt almost calming. She felt herself- and yet the body wasn't hers- take a breath. It was the only sound assaulting her ears.

Lights flooded her vision in a stunning explosion of energy, sound, and light. The noise of crashing bulkheads, of fire smouldering around her, surrounded her.

Anger surged through her, rage boiled her blood. It was a powerful emotion that Lwaxana could never have claimed to have felt before.

Fire. Smoke. Pain. Blood- green blurred her vision.

Moments seemed to collide together, mixing and blending to form a uniquely warped sense of time. Fire blazed before her, blood dripped passed her eye, sliding in its sluggish pace down her cheek, sparks exploded above her head but she never shirked away.

A moan echoed somewhere. Another echoed the first.

Dead eyes stared forward.

Wreckage from other ships tumbled away, floating in the darkness of space.

Stillness passed through her once again. She breathed in slowly as that world slipped away.

Lwaxana just let her eyes slide shut as she forced her mind to lean back away from the Romulan General. When her eyes blinked open, he was watching her with an intent eye. She could no longer read the grey eyes. Instead she looked away, breathing easily as she listened to the Ambassador speak softly with T'Pel. No one else seemed to have noticed her sudden distance. Her eyes darted back to the General, quickly taking note of the jagged scar marring his forehead.

"It will be announced tonight then. The Romulan Empire and the Alliance have allied themselves in this war against the Federation and her allies."

/-/-/-/

/- _**A Few Weeks Later**_

"So did you hear about Michaels and White?"

Geordie tipped his head to the side, watching as Beverly's face split into a grin as he said, "No. What about them?"

"He finally popped the question."

Geordie's eyes darting to the side, they found her grinning face again, "He did what?"

"Proposed," Geordie smirked, not from the news but mostly because of the sassy undertone in her voice _underlining_ the exaggerated roll of her eyes.

"Wow. I knew they'd been dating for a while, but I didn't realize that they were that serious."

"Yeah."

His head turned back to the right, "When did this happen?"

"Two days ago."

"Wow. I can't believe that I hadn't heard about it before now."

"I think they wanted to keep it quiet for a while."

"Yeah," he chuckled, "that'll happen."

A silence dangled above them; Geordie bounced on his heels and Beverly shifted her weight against the turbolift wall. Silence wasn't so much awkward as it was a silence between friends waiting and expecting the other to continue.

Beverly shifted again, knowing in a way that one knows how to take a step, that the lift was about to halt at their destination. The doors slid apart and the two walked off, Beverly casually picking the conversation back up. "I heard you have a Romulan in engineering now."

"Yeah."

"What do you think about him?"

"Her. And she's… efficient. Still learning our systems, for the most part. Kind of weird, teaching her all of it, you know? That whole mistrust thing."

"I know what you mean. Just watching them pass you in the hall or seeing that one… I don't know what you'd call him, but I guess he's like an ensign- you know the one on the bridge?"

"Yeah… Yeah, I never remember how their ranks go."

Beverly just shrugged, looking back out at their path as they maneuvered around a couple of Lieutenants and into Ten Forward. Gerodie's gaze was almost immediately directed to the far side of the restaurant where a corner table had been overtaken by four Romulan officers. Geordie regarded them closely, watching their actions for a moment as he followed Beverly to the bar. Their demeanours seemed benevolent enough- all they appeared to be doing was drinking a little and talking politely.

Secured in the thought, he twisted into his seat, smiling at Guinan over at the other side of the bar. She made a motion to say she'd be there in a moment.

Geordie twisted around in his seat. He looked first at Beverly, who seemed more intrigued with the other barkeep making something, then his eyes strayed back to the Romulans. Again he began sizing them up, taking in their postures, their attitudes, anything he could note about them. The one, he realized, was the engineer.

"Guinan, how are you today?" Beverly's greeting caught his attention and he spun around in the stool, smiling at the sight of Guinan standing before them.

"Grand. You two?"

Geordie just nodded, while Beverly responded, "Pretty good."

"What can I get you?"

"Dekarian ale," he said without pause. He turned in time to see Beverly rolling her eyes at him.

"I'll have a tarkalean tea."

"Coming right up."

With Guinan's departure, Beverly's attention returned to the other barkeep and Geordie spun back around in his stool. Lifting his elbows, he leaned into the bar counter. As his eyes swept over the room, his brows creased. A normally populated table was empty. When his eyes finally found the Romulans, his body stiffened and he straightened in the chair. Two of the Romulans were standing; six AF officers were cluttered around them.

Geordie sighed, swallowing down the instinct to stay and ignore it, he stood. Beverly, noticing his movement, look up curiously at him but Geordie didn't notice as he _marched_ away. "Is there something wrong over here?"

The AF officers rapidly came to a more formal stance, tearing their eyes away from the Romulans to address him. The two Romulans standing seemed to relax but just slightly; the two that had been sitting slowly rose.

"No, sir," one finally responded. "Nothing wrong."

Geordie gave a short nod, "Good. That'd be why you're leaving now?"

The officer who had spoken before- one that Geordie realized was probably the ringleader of the group- made a short, annoyed face, but covered it when he noticed that Geordie's attention was still on him. "Yes, sir," he said tersely. Geordie nodded, watching as the officer sent an enflamed look over at the Romulans. Then, with a bob of his head, he lead the other five away. Geordie turned, watching their figures storm out of Ten Forward.

"Sorry about that," he felt the need to say as he looked back at the Romulans. All four just sank down into their chairs and said nothing. Geordie sent a quick look to the engineer but she didn't return it. With a sigh, he paced back to the bar, feeling quite a bit more deflated than he had when he marched over there.

"Everything okay?"

He nodded at Beverly, "Yeah."

"Guess it's a good thing that we never got any Klingons transferred onto _Enterprise_."

Geordie gave a short laugh. "Yeah, that could be lovely…" his voice trailed off and he looked over to where Guinan was chatting with another commander. "Where's that ale, Guinan?"

"Hold your knebians."

/-/-/-/

/-_** June, A Week Later**_

It had been a long four months for JJ as time passed idly by. The warm summer had drawn to a close and the Trill was grateful for the cooler nights he remembered from home.

There was little that kept his mind off his home, off what had happened to the station. Chamberlain had become his only hope for salvation. His hearty laugh and spontaneous suggestions helped JJ to forget most of the time. He would take him out into the gardens where they could get lost, hiding in the tall plants from reality. They would slip away to the pond where Chamberlain taught him how to fish, sometimes inviting Ty and Liz as well. And as JJ grew more comfortable on the planet, they began convincing Mr. Homn to escort them into town. Chamberlain introduced him to the many wonders of Betazed, including their rich history and art. Food, however, was Chamberlain's greatest revelation- Betazoids, unlike the Bajorans, enjoyed bland, but exotic foods and JJ had enjoyed every moment of learning about them.

With the end of summer, came the beginning of school. On DS9, they followed Bajoran education schedules. All ages and all levels were taught in the same room all year round, taking occasional breaks from religious holidays. On Betazed, it was different. Ages regulated level; different levels and subjects were taught in different classrooms. A large break was taken during summer, and many smaller vacations were taken at irregular intervals. He didn't like it and there were too many people to try and meet. He was ahead of most of them anyway- in math, sciences, and languages, but found himself lacking when it came to history.

"Dis way?"

Chamberlain nodded, smiling at the boy. Ty held a small crystal rod in his hand, tapping awkwardly at the crystals Chamberlain was pointing to. It was a type of percussion instrument, something like the Earth glockenspiel from what JJ could disconcert. Crystals were suspended from a translucent frame and every time Ty struck one with the rod, the crystal vibrated, emanatingthe most exquisite melody.

"Wook at me, JJ! Wook!" JJ smiled down at his little brother as the boy struck a few random crystals. JJ nodded at the boy, then looked at the PADD he was working on.

"Aren't you done with that thing yet?"

JJ looked up again to see Chamberlain standing over him. "Almost." Then he smirked, "Did you know that before the occupation of Bajor, the Bajorans could have easily beaten the twenty-third century Federation? They only chose to remain isolated because they had little need or want to travel beyond their system. When the Cardassians came, they welcomed them because it was rare that visitors came. The Cardassians sabotaged their ships and made it nearly impossible for them to fight."

"Really?" JJ rolled his eyes at Chamberlain's bored tone, sighing as he returned to his work. "So… you almost done?"

"If you leave me alone for a few minutes, I will be."

"Snippy."

He sighed, looking back down. The image of his project distorted; he shook his head, even though he didn't want to focus any more. He sighed, setting it down on the bench beside him. JJ smiled as Ty laughed, glancing up at Chamberlain. He offered his hand to Ty, asking the boy for the rod. Ty handed it over and Chamberlain repositioned himself on the garden floor. JJ shifted on the bench, titling his head to the side, eyes trailing down Chamberlain's bare arms to where his hand held the crystal rod loosely. Slowly, he began tapping at the crystals, as if the melody wouldn't quite come to him. But the more he worked at the crystals, the faster the notes came. The music resonated throughout the garden, each note blending with the next, remaining in the air long after they started. JJ's eyes found Chamberlain's face; his eyes had fallen shut, his face was relaxed. JJ thought it was the most peaceful the boy had ever seemed. The young Trill let his own eyes fall closed. He swayed to the music, wondering what his friend was thinking as he played, wondering what the sweet sound reminded him of.

Somewhere in the distance a male voice started his monologue. The song seemed to shatter in the air. Chamberlain stopped playing; all three boys turned their heads in the direction of the opened door. After a few words drifted back to them, JJ reasoned that it must be was around time for the news; Lwaxana always watched it before dinner. He had never bothered with the news and never before his stay at the Troi's had he even wondered what the war was about. It had taken him weeks to finally asked Lwaxana about it; she had been hesitant about what she said, but it was the first time he began to understand it.

"Ty? Honey, you want to come in here please? Just for a few minutes."

All three boys looked up to Mrs. Riker hanging her head out the door. She smiled at the boy; Ty glanced up at JJ and his brother nodded him inside. Ty hobbled across the balcony leaving JJ sitting on the bench and Chamberlain lounging on the ground.

"Hey, James."

"What?"

"Which of your parents is Trill?"

JJ looked down at his friend, his brow furrowed. "My mum, why?"

"Is she joined?"

"Why do you want to know?"

Chamberlain shrugged, looking away, giving off a rare air of being uncomfortable. "I'm just wondering."

"Yes, she's joined. She's the… eighth host, I think."

Chamberlain nodded. Suddenly his cocky smirk spread over his face and JJ noticed for the first time that he hadn't yet grown into the look. "Can you name them all?"

"All her past hosts?" He shifted on the bench, turning more comfortably towards Chamberlain. "Um, my mum's the last, then… Joran, Curzon… Toris, Emony I think… uh, it's either Tobin or Aurid and… Lyla was the last," JJ looked to his friend, shrugging, "Why do you care, Jean?"

"I don't- I was just asking." Chamberlain shrugged again, gazing off into the garden. JJ looked back to his schoolwork, sighing at it. For a short time, the two just let the silence drape over them, before Chamberlain's voice echoed, "Are you ever going to be joined?"

"Me?" he said in surprise. After a pause, he shrugged. "No, I'm not the type. Besides, I'd probably never pass the first couple of tests."

"What do you mean?"

"I'm a hybrid," he said as a way of explanation. When Chamberlain just continued to stare, JJ elaborated, "One of the first things they do is make sure you're physically able to support a symbioant. I probably wouldn't pass."

"So, Ty couldn't either?"

"No, definably not."

Chamberlain looked pointedly at him at the sharpness of his tone. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Just…" JJ's voice trailed off as he rethought his words. "Well, haven't you ever wondered about the implant on his temple?"

"Never thought about it," the boy shrugged.

JJ swallowed, glancing at the door as if waiting for Ty to return. "He has a rare genetic disorder. It's a Trill thing- my father thinks he has it because he's a hybrid."

"What-" Chamberlain cut himself off, shaking his head.

"Well, being hybrids, we have a higher risk of genetic mutations and all that because of the blending of species. That's why it's so hard for some races to have a kid, or impossible." JJ just shrugged.

"What does it do to him?"

"Oh, um… it's a… it slowly degrades the muscles in his eyes. Most people with it can't see once they're about twenty."

"But aren't there things to help people with that? I know that _Enterprise_'schief engineer is blind, but he can still see," Chamberlain said, watching JJ's calm reaction to what he was talking about. "You know, with implants."

"Yeah, but Ty's young. My father's not sure about implants just yet because of his age; the implant on his temple- it's… it makes like a invisible magnifying glass that knows exactly how much to fix things for him. They also help strengthen his muscles. But they won't work forever."

"So…" Chamberlain blow out air, his hair fluttering under the breeze. "You done with that thing yet?"

"Yeah. Wanna go do something?"


	36. Year 13: 2384, continued

/-/-/-/

/- _**Around the Same Time**_

His foot jammed on the side of the ramp as he bolted up it. Cursing under his breath, his hands gripped the side railing, shifting his weight, he pulled himself off the ground and twisted into the cockpit. The hatch closed, but he wasted no time watching it, instead he was hurriedly checking every essential system and powering the fighter up. It took only a minute, but the entire time he was bouncing impatiently in his seat and desperately trying to ignore the starting of pain in his right shin.

The cockpit glowed lightly, a gently humming comforting his nerves. He took a breath, closing his eyes to calm his mind and hands. After a silent prayer, his eyes snapped opened and his hands took the controls. The mechanism turned his fighter so that it faced out of the ship; the mechanism released and he soared away from the haul and into the darkness of space.

With a look to his left, then right, he noted that several others were already on his wings. Taking one hand off the controls, he adjusted the earpiece and linked himself into their fighters. One simple order drew him to the front and three others created a diamond around him. Looking to his right, he knew he would see two other diamonds and, if he looked to his left, there would be three more.

"Gamma leader, you've got the left. Beta leader, take the right. Alpha squad, follow me in." His voice came out low, adrenaline filled and dulled in a way that only experience could bring.

His hands pulled back on the controls, his left hand keying in a few quick sequences, his eyes darted between the panel and the view outside his screen. Debris came at him, and without any more than a startled tug, he twisted his fighter around to avoid it. "You okay back there, Mav?"

"Yeah, I'm fine."

"Incoming!" he called into the earpiece, eyes widening as he watched the shower of photon torpedoes pass by them. The diamonds broke apart, twirling around before forming back up. "We're going in…" his voice trailed off as he led the diamond into a dive. As one, it bent, pulling up just as all four fighters starting to rain down a hail of phaser fire. Again, as a whole, the diamond turned, flying back over the haul of the ship and targeting the weapons platform. Eight direct hits finally took it out.

"Nice hit, Jake-man."

He just smirked, continuing to fly his diamond towards the back end of the Federation ship. Jake pulled up just as he released a single photon torpedo to the ship's warp core. The four twisted and bend away, forming back into a strict diamond as they rushed away. Jake turned his head to look out the back window, watching as the ship seemed to shudder. His eyes turned back to the view in front of him; moments later he felt the explosion. His controls jerked and his fighter was spun forward. Something pulled at the ship, pulling it into a tailspin. He worked the controls ferociously. Glancing up, he watched as his wingman collided into a piece of stray debris; the other two seemed to have regained control and were a safe distance away. He pulled back hard, then jammed the controls to the right. The debris hit anyway, knocking the fighter even harder to the right. A warning light flashed, but nothing was damaged too badly. He pulled back harder; after a minute he felt safely in control of the machine.

"Did Mav get out?"

"A transporter got him."

Jake nodded to himself, reforming the diamond into a triangle. A fire lit in his eyes, his nostrils flared and his sights locked onto another Federation ship in the distance.

The triangle followed him and a second diamond came just behind them. As one, they weaved through the debris of destroyed ships and darted between stray phaser fire. Jake started the wave of phaser fire, the red beams cutting through the nearest bit of haul, eventually making it to the first weapons platform.

"Break!" he called, and in pairs the others split off, targeting whatever threatening object they could find. Jake veered off by himself, twisting to break through the shields. Phasers locked onto him and he just barely avoided them. He targeted the weapons platform, but his aim was off. Again he maneuvered, twisting away. His fleeing led him to buzz the bridge. He couldn't help but smirk. Turning upside-down, he passed by them again. He looked up just in time to see the planet Dekari in the distance.

A phaser beam struck his fighter in the wing. His balance was knocked off. Again he pulled back, trying to regain control. A second blast caught him in the right.

"May day, _Phoenix_. I need a lift out of-"

/-/-

It was an odd angle. No, not odd- just different. He could see his face from where he was. It was red, not flushed red from heat and adrenaline- but flushed from the last ounce of life left in his body. His eyes were open- he never noticed until then that they were green.

Slowly Data managed to twist onto his back. It was another odd angle; another different look of his bridge. It was odd the way he just stood there, the way his body was stiff and yet leaning against the tactical console. The way he seemed so composed, so in charge of his body, even as his hand covered his stomach and red flowed over his hand. It was like watching a pole snap; he had seemed so rigid, so composed, and then suddenly he just collapsed, melting into the smoke and debris.

He turned onto his elbow, trying to look away from the destruction. His eyes focused instead on the dirtied ground below him. His arm felt stiff as he moved it to tap his communicator; he wondered if he had managed to somehow injure himself. "Harper, I need medics up here as soon as possible."

"_We need medics a lot of places, Captain. We're busy everywhere."_

It was an impulse he wasn't familiar with; one brought on by the darkness of his surroundings. He was ready to snap at her, to demand and order her otherwise. But the words couldn't pass his throat. Instead, he pushed himself off the floor. "Whenever you are able to send them, Harper."

"_Soon, Captain."_

"Thank-you." He tapped the communicator as he pivoted around, surveying the damage. It was a different view from above. His eyes were hidden, the last signs of life couldn't be seen. All he could identify was the tuffs of brown hair and the uniform. It didn't seem as bad. It made it almost easy to pull the body away from the console; almost easy to not feel bad as he just let the man fall to the floor.

It was an old feeling, to be sitting there, back at his old position. The memories, the instincts, the movements all fell back into place. Their sensors were nearly useless. The ship was a mess; it couldn't withstand any more fighting.

"Captain?"

The voice came from behind- Lieutenant Avory. He was the science officer on deck. But, spinning around in the chair, he could see that Avory had abandoned his post and took over as tactical officer.

"Avory?"

"I'm trying to boast signal strength to the sensors… Sir, I'm detecting only Starfleet ships… everything else is wreckage."

It was certainly a different site to look up at the enemy hovering just beyond their shields. Half destroyed ships, scattered pieces, and escape pods floated lifelessly. He had never before sat so utterly helpless, looking down the enemies throat, and knew in an instant that he was behind enemy lines with no where to go and no way out. Propulsion was gone; communications were shotty at best.

"I'm also detecting a few scattered Alliance Fleet ships, sir, but they seem to be in as bad of condition as we are."

Data just nodded.

Beyond the wreckage, beyond the other ships and float debris, however, he could just barely make out the station. Deep Space Nine- once the beckon of light for Bajor and the centre of commerce and exploration of the Gamma Quadrant- stood, pounded and broken. It was conquered. Escape pods fluttered lazily, hopefully towards the planet's surface. He wondered who had made it to them; how many were civilians, how many were people he had meet, how many would survive through Federation patrols.

He tapped a small button in the corner of the console; voices rang throughout the silent bridge. He could hear plasma fires raging everywhere. The Lieutenant's voice shouted above the others.

"Lieutenant Ilya, I need maneuvering capabilities now."

"_We're working on it, Captain, but it's a mess down here."_

"I understand, Lieutenant, but, as things stand, we are currently sitting here waiting for Starfleet to capture us."

There was a pause and Data realized that he knew nothing of the situation outside his engine room. _"Understood, Captain. We'll have propulsion and shields in… maybe twenty minutes if we ignore some safety procedures."_

"Thank-you."

It was a different feeling. One of movement, even though he felt utterly still. When the battle had begun, twelve people had stood on his bridge. Two had left on orders; three had arrived without any. As they stood there, waiting, hoping, praying, there were only five of them. In a pile off to the side, half hidden by debris and settling smoke, four bodies were laid on top of one another. Four more sat against another wall. One was on his back, clutched at his stomach, labouring to breathe. Another was cradling his arm, biting back pain and swatting away the medic, telling him that he was needed elsewhere. Another sat next to him, the right side of his face disfigured from burns and his hands cradled in his lap. And the last was also on his back. His eyes were shut, his body limp; the only sign of life was the steady rise and fall of his chest. The only sign of injury was the small gash across his forehead.

Harper had only the means to offer one medic. He was over there with them. Data had asked, silently, earlier. Without a Sickbay- which had been all but destroyed- and without supplies, he couldn't begin to help the Ensign with the head wound and he could only make the Lieutenant with the stomach wound comfortable. He needed surgery and the medic couldn't perform it. The Ensign who had been burned was already treated, cooling gel had been applied, but nothing farther could be done until he made it back to an Alliance Fleet medical bay. The Ensign with the broken arm was the only one treatable, but he wouldn't hear of being helped before the others.

He didn't know how long it would take Engineering to get propulsion back. He didn't know how long they would be waiting; or how long they had to wait. Moving the bodies, helping the injured- they were all means to keep the others occupied, to help them feel like something could be done. But now they were just standing. They could clear the debris from the centre of the bridge, but he had no desire to order these tired men and women to work at some unnecessary task. He couldn't decide whether the physical or mental was more important in that moment.

He turned, seeking out his crew. He was standing in the far corner- where the viewscreen met the wall and where they had placed the bodies- and he found that he had never before stood there. Never before had he caught that view of his bridge. Two officers knelt before the injured- he was their friend. Data just watched as the bowed their heads and began to pray. Data just looked away.

His eyes found yet another view. He stared out the viewscreen. He was looking straight down the viewer, making the images distorted. Making the Federation ships look bigger, stronger than they were.

It had been a horrific battle. They had fought to every last man, to every last ship, to every last ounce of strength that they had possessed and the Federation had matched them. They had fought and died and nothing seemed to have surmounted from it. One of the most strategically positions they possessed had fallen to the enemy. Some of the finest ships and crews had been lost to the abyss of death.

"_Captain?"_

The voice crackling over the intercom startled him, but he didn't jump or even blink in surprise. He merely reached up and tapped the commbadge. "Yes, Lieutenant?"

"_We can give shields at twenty percent and Warp Three… it's the best we've got for now."_

Data nodded. His eyes once again turned towards the Federation ships. He wondered how many were fit enough to jump to warp, how many had warp capability that could outrun them. Patrol ships had been out for the past hour surveying the damage. They could only go to warp three, perhaps four with a good engineer but not for long. They hadn't been damaged- or even engaged- in battle; they would be chasing them.

"Could we push Warp Four out of the engines?"

"_Four?_" The pause was not encouraging, but Data waited. _"We can give it to you for… maybe an hour. But that's the best I've got, sir."_

"A half an hour, Lieutenant, would get us well past the Bajoran system. That's all I need- then to remain steady warp two… I also need communications up as soon as you're able."

"Sir, we've got a Federation patrol ship coming our way."

Lieutenant Malory was back at tactical. Data nodded at him.

"_We'll manage, Captain. We're ready down here."_

"Very well," he said, turning. Already one of the praying officers had taken the Helm. "Turn us about, Ensign. Warp Four."

"Aye, sir."

His eyes roamed back, finding the angle he had been observing

/-/-/-/

/- _**Two Hours Later**_

"_Blue leader, take the left."_

"_Jefferies, where are you?"_

"_We can't get past their shields."_

"_This is the _Hermes_ to the _Warbird_. What's your status?"_

"_This is Ivinch. We took some heavy damage. Thanks for the help but I think we're sitting the rest of this out."_

"_Jefferies?"_

"_They've got us pinned in… We- break left-!"_

"_Jefferies?"_

The cold hiss of static interrupted the steady stream of words and voices, but only for a moment. Another voice took over, then a second and third overlapped each other, a fourth and fifth vied for attention as the second voice repeated.

Riker blinked at the chaos but he made no other show of standing confused at the anarchy. His feet pivoted of their own accord, turning him away from the screen. His hand reached up, so accustomed to the action that it did it more out of reflex than need to rub at the raw skin beneath his right eye.

"Admiral?" his ears perked at the title. His head rose to attention, his eyes seeking out the shy voice. A young Ensign- a cadet really- had snapped to attention at his console. Riker took a few steps towards the rear of the bridge, too tired, or perhaps too apathetic, to notice that he had begun to tremble, intimidated by Riker's nearness.

"Yes, Ensign?"

He hesitated a moment, then stood straighter, finding confidence in the façade the uniform created. "Captain Data is hailing."

Riker sighed. His body shifted and his shoulders slumped slightly, giving Riker a deflated air. His head pivoted around, glancing at Commander Byron on the other side of the bridge, briefly at the viewscreen, at the tactical station, before his eyes turned back to the Ensign. "Shut this off," he ordered. The Ensign nodded and a moment later the battle communications ceased.

Riker wet his lips and waited for the Ensign to glance back at him before ordering, "Put him on the screen." He turned away, his eyes finding the viewscreen just as Data's face replaced the previous site. A spark flared over Data's head; he didn't even blink. Behind him, a fire raged; a Lieutenant was limping away holding his arm, two others were attempting to put the fire out. A body was splayed over a side railing; a couple of the wounded were making their way to the turbolift. "Data?"

"The Starfleet ships pushed past our defences at Dekari. We were forced back into the Bajoran system… They've taken Deep Space Nine. We had no choice but to retreat, Admiral. The Bajoran system and all of the Dekari sector has been overrun."

For a moment Riker didn't feel confident in his ability to think. He merely blinked and slowly he began to nod. His eyes strayed from the viewscreen, his head turned to the side to find Byron watching the android. The Betazoid briefly glanced at him; Riker thought he must have shared a similar _dazed_ look. "Understood…" his voice trailed off and slowly he looked back to Data. Riker had known the android for over twenty years and never before that day had he thought Data looked more Human than in that moment. His emotion chip was off, but even without it a certain look of fear, of grief, of shame and disappointment had crossed over his face and were reflecting in his eyes. Riker caught his eye and, without breaking the contact, he bowed his head. "We'll get it back, Data."

"Yes, sir. Data out."

The image of his old friend disappeared. The screen remained blank for just a few seconds and Riker found himself silently praying that it would never change back to show the outside world. But suddenly, and all too soon, stars blinked into existence and ships appeared, debris clouded the serenity that once existed. And, far off in the distance, he could see the purple oceans of Trill. The planet stood out, prominent and dignified, defiant in the face of the rest of the galaxy. And, surrounding it, two dozen Federation ships. Slowly it grew smaller, the stars grew longer, and a few seconds later it was gone completely.

/-/-/-/

/- _**The Next Morning **_

The Betazoid sky had a wonderful appearance to it in the early morning hours. He had discovered it one restless morning; walking throughout the house, he had stumbled onto the patio door. Looking out into the foggy morning, dew drops covering the elaborate garden, his eyes spied the purple hue was cast over the white patio chairs. Pinks danced throughout purple, blue was hinted at throughout the nebulous clouds, red was brightened by yellow streaks, the two swimming together into fantastic oranges.

Before his time on Betazed, JJ had only once seen a sunset and only twice had he seen a real sunrise. Kira had taken him to her home on Bajor; they had stayed up into the early hours of the morning. She let him watch the sun fall over the Bajoran mountains and woke up as it climbed over the treetops of a nearby forest.

On that cold fall morning, he sat huddled on the damp patio seat, pale skin lit up with the sight. The reds played against his skin, giving life to his sleepy face. His eyes sagged under the heavy weight of exhaustion. He shuddered, a cold wind slipping under his thin bedclothes.

"What are you doing out here?" Her voice was soft, as it always seemed to be. He turned his head slowly, unsure if he had the strength to move any faster. He just looked at her for a time, then shrugged. His eyes wandered back to their spot just over the horizon, catching the first sight of the sun peaking over the trees.

"It's early; you should be in bed."

"I like watching the sun rise."

He could hear her footfalls, he knew when she stopped that she was standing just behind him. A soft sigh passed her lips; he knew she was crossing her arms.

"It's five in the morning, JJ."

"Back on the station, it's midday."

She nodded. He knew she must be thinking of an easy way of telling him that he wasn't, in fact, on the station. He heard her sigh again, and knew that she could think of no gentle way to phrase it. Instead, she stepped away, pulling a second chair over to him. Blue eyes turned to her, watching as a symbol of grace slouched down into a chair.

"It's beautiful here." She just nodded in agreement. He turned to look at her, wondering when the last time she had simply stopped to marvel in the beauty of her world. He wondered when the last time either of his parents had had the opportunity to stop and marvel at the wonder of any world.

"It's winter on Bajor right now. All over the world, they get snow. Only for a month or so, but they can get a lot of it. Kira says that she'll take me one day- I've never seen real snow before."

"I've never seen real snow either."

"Really?"

"Nope. Betazed doesn't have snow."

A silence fell over them. Not a harsh, awkward quiet, but one filled with unsaid thoughts and quiet emotions. JJ looked away.

"It's almost six. Do you mind if I turn on the news?"

"I don't mind."

"Do your parents ever let you listen?" JJ shook his head slowly. They told him some things, but they were careful about it. He never felt as if he had the whole story. Kira told him some other things, but they never seemed to fill in the right holes. Recently, Lwaxana had answered several questions of his and slowly the picture was becoming complete.

With a mere tap of a hidden console on the patio table, the sound of the reporter's voice drifted through the morning air. For a time, JJ didn't pay attention. The man made mention of a few planets he had never heard of and logged the movements of the fleet from days ago.

A woman's voice interrupting her constituent caught his attention. He darted his eyes over to Deanna, who appeared to be watching him carefully, but he could tell that her focus was on the words the woman was saying.

"_This data is just a few minutes old from the front lines. Alpha fleet ships have just pulled out of the Trill sector. Starfleet has officially claimed control of the Alliance Fleet planet Trill and her surrounding space."_

All JJ could do to that was blink. There were people on Trill that he was related to, grandparents that he had never met and an aunt he had occasionally heard of. He had an uncle as well, but he was unsure whether or not he still lived on Trill. He blinked again, brows furrowing. His mother would be worried; his father would know how it felt to have parents trapped on a Federation controlled world. His other grandparents had, after all, not been able to escape from Earth years ago during the split.

"_We're getting more reports from the front. One second please…"_

The man's voice came back, his tone set as he began reading the latest, _"Beta Fleet ships have been forced out of the Bajoran sector,"_ JJ's entire body stiffened, _"Reports show that the station- Deep Space Nine- had been commandeered by Starfleet. It is uncertain now whether Alliance Fleet members were able to escape or how many civilians may be left on board-"_

The voice stopped- JJ wasn't certain whether or not Deanna had stopped the commlink or he had simply stopped listening. His shoulders slumped; he tried to swallow back the tears. He had been told that it would only be a matter of weeks before he could go home. Now, his home was a part of the Federation and his parents were captured- they may not have even been alive. His friends, Kira, Odo, Miles…

Hands wrapped around his shoulders. Tears slipped down his cheeks. His entire body fell limp; he let his head fall into the nape of her neck. "I just wanna go home."

"I know, baby, I know."


	37. Year 13: 2384, continued again

/-/-/-/

/- _**July, Three Weeks Later**_

He had often wondered how diverse the classes were before the war. Ten years ago before Humans had fled to Alliance planets. Five years ago before children were sent from their homes to be safe. He wondered sometimes if so many different races had populated the Betazoid schools.

In most of his classes, Humans nearly outnumbered the Betazoids. Trills and Denobulans dotted the population and even a few Vulcans and Bajorans appeared in some of his classes.

But, despite the diversity, he often associated with the Bajorans. All of them were like him, sent away to escape the current danger. And, in the two classes when there were no other Bajorans, he found himself migrating towards two Humans he had met his first day there. William and Alek had never been on Earth, even though both their parents had been born and raised there. When the Federation had split, their parents had escaped to Betazed and a few years later they were born. William had even come to consider himself Betazoid- he claimed calling himself Human was like labelling someone by their skin colour. He said his home was Betazoid and so that was what he was. JJ had never been able to argue with the logic; most of the time he felt far more Bajoran than Trill or Human.

The school day was half over, which meant that JJ was about to leave the only class that he saw Alek. He laughed at something Alek said as he logged off the computer. His head tilted to side to look over at the Human; Alekwasn't looking at him.

"Isn't that the woman you're staying with?"

JJ looked over to where Alek was looking; Mrs. Riker stood at the doorway speaking with his teacher. He smiled at her, excusing himself with a simple nod before walking over to her. He gave her a large grin, teasing when he asked, "What are you doing here already?"

She sighed, brushing back a strand of his hair. "Go get your things, you're coming home early today."

"Why?" his voice rose an octave when he spoke, squeaking out a terrified sounding question.

"Just get your things."

He didn't need a mirror to know that his face had gone pale, that his eyes reflected the fear rising in his stomach. He could tell by her stance, her tone, her mere words told him that something terribly wrong had happened.

Her eyes begged him not to argue or question. He could only bow his head, bobbing it shortly as he turned away from her. He shuffled his feet to the back of the room, trying without trying to take as long as he could. Grabbing his coat- he had found it amazing how quickly he had adjusted to temperature- he shrugged it on and slowly made his way back to where Deanna was waiting.

"You have everything?" he nodded in response. Her hand strayed to the back of his shoulders, gently leading him from the school room. Despite her urging, he twisted around, catching Alex's eye. But as she turned out into the hallway, he was forced to look away. Slowly, silently, they made their way out of the school and into the front lawn where a transport shuttle patiently waited for them.

JJ didn't look at her as he took a seat behind the pilot. The pilot sent Deanna a short look; JJ glanced at her as she nodded. When her eyes traveled in his direction, he looked away quickly, his eyes scanning the scenery as it flew by. Her attention was on the pilot as they made their way through the city. JJ glanced her way, daring to look for only a few seconds. He knew that she could sense his eyes; he looked away, finding his hands instead. As they grew closer to her home, he looked over at her again, anxious to know what had happened. He thought for sure that, whatever it was, could have been addressed outside the school grounds, or even sitting their in the transport shuttle. But she said nothing and JJ didn't trust his voice enough to demand an explanation.

He followed without thinking as she led him from the transport shuttle, down the stone path around the house, and into the side entrance to Lwaxana's gardens. Had he been paying attention, he would have admitted that he was surprised by the route, and by her continued silence, but he was more absorbed in his thoughts and worries to notice.

A small amount of pressure was applied to his back. He craned his neck to look up at Deanna. She nodded at something off by the patio. His brows furrowed together and his eyes searched the gardens for some kind of answer. His eyes grew wide, his body froze. A moment past as he tried to process the sight. Slowly a grin stretched across his face, brightening the paleness that had formerly clouded over it. Kira was sitting on the patio stair, laughing with Ty. His mother stood over them; he could see a smile on her lips but the laughter died before it reached her eyes.

The excitement that had been growing in him died just as soon as she noticed their presence. Their eyes met. JJ could see a dark cloud growing behind her normally bright orbs; his smile began to falter. A few tentative steps brought him to the patio edge; his footsteps echoing, alerting Kira to his presence. She looked up at him, but JJ's focus was on his mother.

"Where's da?"

Jadzia's eyes fell to the ground, his voice too much for her to take. His words were quiet, scared, but his stance- shoulders back and chin raised- showed a man's confidence that he was too young to own

Her eyes flickered up and over at Kira. Her friend just nodded, forcing a smile as she looked back at Ty. The boy was looking up at his mother, but Kira regained his attention. Standing, she took his hand. With one final, comforting look to Jadzia, she led the boy inside; Deanna stepped inside behind them a few second later.

Jadzia wandered closer to where JJ was standing, but the boy didn't move. He stared up at her, demanding with his eyes for an answer. She walked down the first few steps, but her body could no longer hold her and she sank down onto the wood step. JJ watched her; she looked up at him and he took a seat besides her, leaning his grown body into hers. Jadzia wrapped her arm around his shoulders, squeezing him gently before she found the courage to speak.

"There was a… a Federation fleet attacked the station."

"I know. I heard… But then they wouldn't tell us anything else. They didn't know who made it off the station, or if anyone made it off the station, or anything that was happening! And even Lwaxana was trying to find out and Mrs. Riker tried to talk to her husband but she couldn't contact him-!"

"Whoa! Calm down, JJ. JJ- look at me," her hand led his chin to the side, forcing his blue eyes to look up at him. He inhaled deeply, blinking hard to keep back the moisture. "Some of us were on the _Defiant-_"

"Some? Who's some?"

"Nerys, Miles, me, and the normal crew- JJ, you know who's on the _Defiant_."

"Da didn't go?"

She shook her head slowly, the sorrow leaking through every pore, dripping into her voice as she sighed, "No. He and Benjamin and everyone else… we don't know what's happening with them."

"What do you mean you don't know? You… but… what's going to happen to them?"

"I don't know, baby."

"What about you? And the station? When do we get to go home?"

"I don't know, baby," she pulled him closer to him, kissing the top of his head, "I just don't know."

/-/-/-/

/- _**Around the Same Time**_

"Ah… you have a true eye, my friend. That is hand crafted Andorian blade there."

The voice startled him and Ken jumped, looking away from the item in his hand to see the shopkeeper smiling up at him. He had three teeth missing from his smile and a thick old scar that ended at the curve of his lips. He was bald and a short, plump man, a Gintar from the look of his brownish skin and the green highlights beneath his eyes and red along his jaw. The Gintar had never been a species that Ken put much trust in to begin with, but the just look of him and his dingy little store made Ken nervous

"How can I help you… Mr. Smith?"

"_Smith?"_

_He was adding more green. More green in streaks along the top, along the bottom. Amen's painting distracted him and Ken just watched as the brush moved back and forth in slow, agonizing motions. Amen spoke slowly, gathering his thoughts even as he explained something. Ken had long ago forgotten what he was talking about. _

"_Ken?"_

_His eyes snapped away from the green paint, "Yes, Mr. President?"_

_He had set the brush aside and was wiping his hands with the same old rag. There was a purple smudge on the side of his face but Ken had no interest in alerting him to it. _

"_I need you to talk to those reporters about what happened last night."_

"_What happened last night?"_

"_With the S- Sklick Nsar-"_

"_The Sklig Ntsar."_

"_Yes, whatever. The story with them breaking in. That whole story."_

"_How much of the story?"_

_Ken watched as Amen's cold eyes turned away, taking in the gardens outside the transparent door. "Make them look bad, Ken, I don't really care how."_

"I… I need something for my protection."

"Then you have come to the right place." His lips pulled apart again, stretching into the same toothless smile. It put Ken even more on edge. "For what type of… protection do you need?" Ken just looked at him; the Gintar stalked around the table separating them. "Who might be after such a nice man as you that you feel threatened?"

Ken scowled at the man's grammar, but his years of work had forced him to become used to the translator's shortcomings. "A group of people-"

"It wouldn't be the Sklig Ntsar, by any chance?" Ken sent him a look, but chose to ignore his comment. "Yes… Have you any preferences."

"This kind of thing I'm no good at."

"Yes…" the Gintar hobbled towards a back case; pushing his thumb against the panel, the door cracked open and from it he pulled out a sheathed dagger. Pulling on the handle, Ken blinked at the gleam off the blade.

_A few cameras flashed; Ken blinked as he looked out at the reporters. One shot his hand up into the air, standing before Ken could call on him or ignore him. "Were any suspects apprehended last night?"_

"_No," Ken answered with a shake of his head, "Unfortunately all- what appears to be three culprits were able to escape, most likely with the help of others."_

"_Can you tell us what they were looking for?"_

"_Yes. It appears that they were attempting to locate information about one or several Starfleet Captains."_

"_Can you be any more specific?"_

"_I'm afraid not?"_

"_Because it's classified or because you don't know?"_

"_I'm not answering that."_

"_What can you tell us about the Sklig Ntsar?"_

"_That they're a bunch of cowards and that they don't even understand what they're trying to fight."_

"Poison-tipped."

"Poison? Isn't that a bit drastic?"

"You tell me? You fear them that much?"

Ken had no answer. He held out his hand, taking the sheath from the Gintar's hand. It was heavy, both the sheath and dagger handle were made from some ornate metal- an alloy similar to Earth's gold. His finger traced over the design, the jewels placed in some symbolic fashion. But it all meant nothing to him; it was protection, safety in his hand. His eyes glanced up to catch the Gintar's.

_He heard them long before he ever saw them. A noise sounded in the alley- something crashing against the concrete ground. Footsteps echoed around him, the owners not bothering to hide their presence. A body pressed into him, knocking him to the ground. _

"_We're cowards, huh?" the voice was harsh, the words spat in disgust. Ken's eyes shut tight. He made no move to get up off the ground, but a hand pushed him down into the spot anyway. "At least we're trying to get rid of Amen. What are you doing about him? Helping him right along."_

_The voice was masculine, the tone harsh, demanding, but gave off no air of waiting for any answer Ken might have had for him. He took steady breathes and kept his eyes closed, wishing that his body wasn't so tense under his attacker's hand. _

"_We've got our eye on you, Mr. Smith."_

"_B, we gotta get going."_

_Ken's eyes tighten at the sound of a female somewhere behind him. The man's hand loosened but didn't let go. Ken dared to crack his eyes opened and turn his head, but the man noticed the movement and slammed his face against the ground. For a moment Ken was too dazed to do anything; by the time his baring returned to him, his two assailants were gone and he was lying alone in an alley. _

/-/-/-/

/- _**Around the Same Time**_

It was the first he had heard of the news. Captain Black had been killed at Bajor two weeks ago and standing before Riker was the man's replacement. He had never met Captain Diego before, but it hadn't taken Riker more than a matter of seconds to learn that he didn't much care for the man. He was Dekarian, a race naturally annoying with their smugness, and from simply his stance Riker had concluded that he was a by-the-book kind of officer. He was pale, like every other Dekarian, and stood tall and lanky, flaming orange hair matching the scales surrounding his eyes.

Admiral Keshna caught his eye and he smiled over at her. The Trill nodded back to him before returning to her conversation with Admiral Vasilii. It was a rare occurrence to see the two of them at a meeting in person, but at the last fight for Trill and Vigo they had been evacuated and brought with the fleet to Betazed.

His eyes skimmed over the rest of the room, finding Admiral Jackson in the far corner of the room with his aide. Data's image was there but for a short time he seemed in deep conversation with an invisible person. Neither the Bolian nor Vulcan Admirals were present and Riker could fathom an answer as to why. He knew, however, why Admiral Hilger and Captain Griffin hadn't appeared for the meeting.

If he were truly honest, he would say that he wasn't even aware of why he was present for the meeting. The _Enterprise _had been stationed in a system only a few minutes away from Betazed; the Alliance Fleet High Command seemed to think he could make it in person, for what rationale he wasn't sure.

Riker sighed, rubbing his nose as he pressed farther into the room. She was the last he noticed. She seemed to have sensed his presence; at least, if not his, then someone's. She turned to the side and he caught grey eyes. Her expression before had been one of professionalism, but when he took in her features, they had become one of stony silence that he had come to accept. His jaw tightened, the lines around his eyes hardened. Finally Jackson's voice forced his attention away from her. They had nothing to say to each other, what happened was in the past and each had moved on… moved apart and grew spiteful.

Chairs scrapped across the floor as everyone throughout the room took a seat. He glanced over at her, out of curiosity more than spite. She took Data's chair and suddenly Riker realized that his old friend was gone.

"Captain Cregg?"

She nodded back at Admiral Jackson. "Captain Data asked me to fill his seat for him. There's troubling movement near Galios." The Admiral just nodded and Riker settled back into his seat, forcing his eyes away from her, forcing himself to forget that she was there.

"We received late last night a holographic recording of a young king, Tan Qui. Many of you will remember him from last year- he gave us several technical advantages over the Federation."

Gemi's name peaked Riker's interest. He sat forward, folding his hands on the table as he waited for Admiral Jackson to continue. But the Human said nothing farther, instead he simply keyed in a short sequence and soon a small, holographic image of Gemi appeared before the council. His body was turned so that Riker could see his tanned face, ocean blue eyes staring out at the crowd.

"_This message is intended for the ears of the Alliance High Command. I am Kasimir Gemi Tan, king of the Yenyarian people. I wished only to send this message so that I could thank-you. The materials you gave us spared many lives and allowed for a swift takeover of the capital city. I have once again restored my family's power over the world on Yenyae. It could not have been accomplished without your help. I send many thanks and wish you luck in your own war."_

The message cut off then. Gemi gave a final bow before the image fuzzed and dissipated, leaving Riker with a clear view of Captain Cregg. Her head was titled slightly to the right, her brows furrowed. He could tell that she had never heard the full reports of the Yenyarian people- not many had. But he could tell where her intrigue was leading her thoughts.

"With the news of their latest victory, I thought perhaps Admiral Riker, it would be prudent to send you as an ambassador between our two people."

"An Ambassador?"

Jackson nodded. "Yes. Their weapons have given us an incredible victory over the Federation. With their help, I believe that advantage could be increased tenfold."

"Sir, they just went through hell themselves in a civil war- one that we have no direct knowledge of. We don't know how high their casualties were; we certainly don't know if they're in any condition to join an intergalactic war. And, personally, I doubt they would be willing to join even if they were."

"I'm not asking your opinion, Admiral, and I'm not even asking for them to add ships to our ranks. But to have them as any kind of ally would be a significant advantage."

Riker sighed. He could feel the muscle in his cheek twitch and he fought the urge to drop Jackson's gaze. Finally he nodded, his eyes closing as his chin touched his chest. It would a long journey back to Yenyae, and a futile meeting with the king, he was sure.

/-/-/-/

/- _**Around the Same Time**_

"And you say this information comes from an Alliance officer?"

"Yes." Hill looked to Admiral Haydn, the Beta Fleet commander not looking impressed by the discovery. "The information has been good every time, I have no doubt that it will continue to be."

"But-"

"Please excuse my tardiness." The two Humans turned at the interruption, finding Commander Azia and another Mikolian- Sub-Commander Joezer- march inside the High Command chambers.

"Come, look at this," Hill beckoned him. "A spy within the Alliance High Command," his last words were stated harshly, his face turned towards Admiral Haydn, before his attention returned to Azia. The Mikolian walked up to the holographic map, a face a mild curiosity planted over his features. "Has reported to us about a small planet located somewhere between Klingon and Alliance space. Here to be precise." Hill's finger played over the map, enlarging the area and creating a small system in its wake.

"And this spy believed this information to be useful in what capacity?"

"They're apparently a very powerful, but isolated culture. The Alliance has already had a couple of encounters and hopes to forge a lasting alliance with them. I think it would do us some good to _delay _that alliance, what do you think?"

Hill's head bobbed up in a way that it caught first the solitary figure of the Breen commander. The alien just stood stoic, breathing loudly. Then Hill twisted his head to the side, wishing to observe Azia's reaction. He was intrigued by a pinched look on the Commander's face, it was like a shadow of recognition had passed over him, but, like a dream, flew just out of reach when he tried to force back the memory.

"Does the planet have a name?"

"I believe it's pronounced 'Yenyae'. Why…?" Hill's final words dripped from his tongue, started by the way Commander Azia's eyes widened, for surprise was a rare emotion on the Mikolian officer. But his eyes narrowed suddenly, a terse, "We must attack," leaving his lips. The entire room looked to him; Hill's eyes didn't leave the Commander. But the Mikolian spared them no attention, instead he repeated his earlier remark.

"We must push forward, attack the planet before the Alliance can make their way there." As he spoke, his harsh words sounded cold to Hill's ears. It was echoed in the way his body was stiff, his eyes hard and uncaring.

Admiral Hill shook his head at his demand. The Commander slammed his hand down against the table, a deliberately irrelevant action, but startling in its randomness. His eyes were a blaze of emotion and Hill could find nothing to do but stare into them.

"We must attack."

"We cannot."

"The Federation cannot." Hill's eyes were drawn wide at the statement. Azia's jaw formed hard lines, his face set in a calm interpretation of anger. "But we will."

/-/-/-/

/- _**Around the Same Time**_

Chamberlain sat stiffly on the smooth stone bench, his bare feet barely touching the hard dirt below him. He put his hands behind him, allowing him to lean back, feeling the last minutes of the sun on his face.

A warm breeze tickled his skin, blowing his dark hair. He inhaled deeply, able to smell the wonderful fragrance of Betazoid flowers. He sighed, looking over his gamma's garden. She had only the best, everything that she willed. And never once did she really tend it, but she did enjoy it with him and Liz at times.

The wind blew through the trees, rustling the slowly changing leaves. He watched them for a moment, watching as the leaves and grass as they swayed gently with the wind. The withering flowers, too, moved as the warm breeze touched them, forcing a shrivelled leaf to the ground.

His eyes turned to see a small creature dash through the flowers- a rum'da, an animal similar to an Earth squirrel. He watched for a moment, wondering if the animal would appear before him. It didn't, though he caught a glimpse of the creature's red tail.

"Are you going to hide out here all night?"

Chamberlain hardly reacted to his friend's voice. He didn't turn, or stand, or make any indication that he had heard JJ. But the Trill did not give up; instead, he walked closer, saying, "Your parents are looking for you, you know."

"Yeah. So what?"

"Well… I don't know." JJ walked around the bench, hoping that his friend would look at him. But Chamberlain's eyes were distant, starring off in the distance. "Are you ok? You've been acting weird since your father got here."

"Just-!" His said sharply, looking up at JJ. Then finished, his voice in a whisper, "…leave me alone."

JJ looked down at him, watching him for a moment. He waited, wondering if he had anything more to say. But the Human didn't. JJ sighed, shrugging. "Your mum wants you to go in, she asked me to come look for you."

"I don't care."

"Come on. You never get to see your father, and he has to leave soon!" JJ told him. "Come on."

"No! I said," Chamberlain started, once again looking at JJ, "leave- me- alone!"

JJ sighed, knowing the glare the boy gave him. It was the same he had given his sister many times before when Liz became too annoying, even for their close relationship. The Trill nodded. "Fine."

Chamberlain was no longer looking at him, his eyes focused on a patch of Andorian flowers behind JJ. The Trill walked around the stone bench, making to head back into the warm house.

But then he paused, looking over his shoulder to see the slumped shoulders of his friend. "I don't get it."

"What?"

"Your father is out their protecting you, keeping you safe, and when you have the chance to see him, you run away from him. You act cold around him; shrug him off. Things you tell me and your mum without thought or pause, you just curtly inform him of when he asks. Why?"

"It's none of your business."

JJ shrugged, "No. But my da is up there. I don't know if he's even alive… and even though he sent me and my brother away, I would give anything to just see him for a few hours. You get that chance- you'd know if something happened to your father."

Chamberlain twisted around to see JJ, his eyes dark with an old anger. "Yeah, well that's the difference between you and me- you have a "da"; I just have a father who sometimes drops by. There's a rather large difference between that."

"He's still your father," JJ said lamely, not knowing what else to say.

"Yeah, that doesn't mean much to me anymore." Chamberlain paused, catching JJ's eyes. "You know your father, I've hardly met mine."

JJ opened his mouth, as if to speak, but closed it after nothing came out. Chamberlain spoke instead, telling him, "Just… go back inside. Tell… tell my da'na that you didn't see me."

The Trill was going to tell him how his mother would know he'd been lying, but refrained, understanding that when Chamberlain turned away from him, he had ended the conversation. JJ wasn't sure how he felt about being dismissed in such a manner.

/-/-/-/

/- _**The Next Day**_

The cold grass felt perfect against his warm body. As he chose to lay there, his eyes closed and his unruly brown hair splayed behind him, he focused on the sun rays beating down on him, licking his pale skin eagerly. Beside him came short bursts of giggles and all around him came the hurried thumping of feet scampering from some pursuer.

Carefully he cracked open one eye and peered over at the source of the heavy breathing. JJ was laying on his side hold his stomach; his nose was scrunched up in the way it always did when he laughed. Chamberlain smiled at him but found no more energy reserved in his body for laughter- it had all been spent during their trek throughout the city and finally in his merciless pursuit of JJ.

JJ gave a final sigh, sucking in a calming breath and rolled onto his back. A cool breeze rolled off the lake, chilling the boys' heated bodies.

"You don't seem to be enjoying yourself."

"No, I'm enjoying this…"

"No you're not."

Chamberlain rolled away, tensing his stomach to sit up. He leaned back, his palms digging into the dirt. "It's fun. We haven't done anything like this in a while."

"You hate it because your father's here." Chamberlain looked up sharply, but then, in an effort to hide the reaction, he looked back out at the scene. "You do, don't you?"

"You said it, not me."

"What's your problem?" Chamberlain glanced quickly at him. JJ held his eye for a moment but then he looked away again, shrugging his shoulders. "You're father is great. He's a hero and a damn fine officer. You should be proud, not moping selfishly around all day."

"Moping selfishly? I'm not moping and I'm not being selfish."

"No you're being stupid."

"Stupid?"

"Yes. You hate your father because he's never around and then when he is, you ignore and resent him. Make up your mind. Do you want him here or away from you?"

Chamberlain's mouth fell opened but he had no words to defend himself with. The air around them grew still, an awkward silence adding meters of distance between the friends.

Steadily the silence grew more and more awkward, becoming less of a break from talking to an argument in itself. Chamberlain turned his head as far to the right as it would go, his eyes searching the park for something else to focus on. He noticed the tree first; his mother had told him a story about it many times before when he was younger. It was a silly story, really, one about his parents' first real outings together.

His father was sitting beneath the leaves' shade, his back reclining against the truck. His mother sat between his legs, leaning into him. Having so little Betazoid blood, he had never been expected to develop telepathy like most Betazoids, or even the limited talent of empathy like his mother, but he had always assumed that some natural gift of communication would enter him like with his sister. But nothing like it had ever come to him. Instead he had developed a natural talent for reading and observing people. As he watched his parents, he saw the intimate position they were in, but he knew better than to make assumptions based on so little. If they were any other couple, he would use the way her forehead leaned just into his jaw, the way his finger lazily stroked her arm, the way they spoke so effortlessly together. He had never been able to deny the love shared between them. He had, in fact, derived some comfort from it. But he had also found himself to resent it, to hate how he could love her so much and still leave her alone for so long.

As he watched, the wind began to gust again, carrying her voice to his ears. The words were quiet, but he heard clearly, "How long can you stay?" It worried him in a confusing kind of way that she could ask a question like that so causally.

"I'm afraid that I have to leave soon."

Chamberlain rolled his eyes. His head cocked away as he muttering, "Typical."

"Huh?" He turned his head back to JJ, the silence almost letting him forget that the Trill was sitting next to him. For a moment, he hesitated, not wanting to answer. Then he simply shook his head. Chamberlain waited another moment, then sighed, growing uncomfortable on the ground. He shifted, pulling his body off the ground. JJ looked up at him; making a face, he sighed and then did likewise.

/-/-/-/

/- _**A Few Days Later**_

It was not a surprise to him that Gemi hadn't been the one to come meet him. It hadn't even been a surprise to find himself face to face with the Yenyarian general when he stepped out of the shuttle pod. The surprise had more come from the mere existence of a shuttle pod bay inside the palace.

Will took a moment to notice Kelnor's attire. The bow and quiver- a ket'la, he recalled Gemi call it- strapped around his shoulder was nothing unusual on him, but he no longer wore the robes Will had seen him in two years ago. Instead he wore a dark brown, leather outfit, a grey long-sleeved shirt beneath the leather vest. It was winter on Yenyae; it was winter and he was still sweating in his climate resistant uniform.

"Admiral Riker, a pleasure to meet you again."

"Kelnor Ka."

"Tan Qui wanted me to apologize for him not meeting you here. He is meeting with some of the heads of the royal houses. Please, this way."

Kelnor led him through winding, elegant corridors. Golden walls were decorated with elaborate tapestries, each one seemingly telling some kind of story. Kelnor finally stopped them when they came to the entrance of a large hall. The room was enormous; a high ceiling and open hall with only decorated columns to take up room. Even so, he was shocked by the amount of people in there.

"How many royal houses are there?"

"Seventy three."

A low whistle past his lips as his eyes first caught sight of Gemi. The Yenyarian king sat perched at the edge of an ornate throne chair. It was an metal, similar to gold but shinier, with a hint of a silver colouring to it. The throne was set upon a set of five stairs, a royal blue carpeting covered it and extending from the bottom of the stairs to the door, covering the marble-like floor. And behind him, the most ornate tapestry that he had seen so far hung off the ceiling. It was decorated with symbols and colourful images, but he could no more decipher the meaning that he could their language.

Beside him, a young woman, about his age, sat. She, like all Yenyarians, looked out at them with soft blue eyes. Dark, suntanned skin enhanced them. Blonde hair was twisted and tied back in a jewel covered clip. She had her robes tossed around her as she leaned back into the chair. Despite how comfortable she appeared reclining in her throne, Will could detect a hint of discomfort, a sense of not truly belonging there. Looking back to Gemi, he was even more intrigued by how awkward Gemi seemed to be sitting, no matter how much he gave off the air and appearance of belonging.

"I didn't know that he was married."

Will eyes strayed over his shoulder, looking to the man for a story behind the woman he had never met. Will was surprised to hear Kelnor actually start chuckling. "Yes, that is Sun Izellah. They absolutely despised each other when they first meet, as children of course. But now… They are quite in love."

Will couldn't help but smile at the thought, recalling a similarly shared feeling between himself and his own wife. He looked back to the woman just as she rose, Gemi's hand in hers as he guided her down the marble steps.

Will's first instinct was to walk inside and join them, but Kelnor put a hand out. Will scrunched his face into a question, but Kelnor just nodded back at the hallway. "We shall meet him down there. You may not enter the hall without invitation."

Will looked back over at his shoulder into the hall, but both people and Kelnor were blocking his view. The Yenyarian led him far down the hall to another door. The general opened it, ushering Will out into the open air. Will turned to look at him, but Kelnor had already disappeared.

Turning his eyes away from the building wall, he found himself standing on a balcony that seemed to wrap around the entire floor. His feet strayed over to the ledge, his hands gripped the cool metal surface of the railing.

He had been able to look over the entire city as they flew over it on the shuttle pod, but standing there, overlooking the forum and outer limits from such an intimate angle was breathtaking.

"Will."

He spun sharply at his name. Gemi stood one step in front of the door way, looking truly regal with his cape flowing behind him in the light breeze, the thin cloth shirt covered by a leather vest with his family seal engraved in it. Will grinned, feeling foolish as the king approached him. "Herr Tan."

"Oh, please. Call me Gemi." Will nodded at the teasing chide, but extended his hand to Gemi without hesitation. "How have you been?"

"Well. And you?"

Gemi just nodding, brushing off the inquiry. "I've heard reports of what is happening."

"It's a mess, yeah, but…" Will let his words trail off. He shrugged, not knowing what else he might say about it.

"And the others? Dr. Crusher and Ensign Kent. Have they also been well?"

Will cleared his throat, "Um, yeah, uh, Dr. Crusher's just fine, still on my ship. I told you how Kent was, um, that he was burned pretty badly when we left?" Gemi gave a slight nod. "Yeah, he's out of Alliance Medical and is now working light duty at the Alliance Consulate."

"That is good."

"Yes… So, how have things here been? Besides the obvious."

"Well… Difficult, but the transition has been smooth enough." Suddenly Gemi sighed, stopping and forcing Will to walk around him before coming to a stop. "You come wishing our help; do not mask your intentions, Will. I know better than that."

The Admiral looked over at him, clears eyes not concealing the truth in the king's words. "You have already shown an amazing supply of technology. Ships that, from our scans, are nearly as good as our own with a few things we couldn't even name. We-"

"Admiral," the Yenyarian shook his head, wetting his lips to continue, "My people have just exited a very long civil war. Do you truly believe that any of them want me to enter into a war against some races we have no quarrel with. Admiral, I need to reinstall myself as king, to restore our economy, to help my people."

Will sighed, rubbing his eyes. "I didn't think you'd go for it. I wasn't the one who sent me here."

"Tell your superiors that you struggled hard but the Council of Elders refused."

"Elders? If you're hitting eleven thousand, how old are they?"

"Ancient."

"But this is a monarchy? You have a Council of Elders?"

Gemi laughed, a full chuckle that Will had rarely heard during his months on the planet. "Yes. I don't have complete control over everything. They advise me on matters of state."

The king grew quiet and Will looked over to him. "You don't seem very happy to be here."

"What?"

"To be king."

"What gives you that impression?"

Will shook his head. "It's rightfully your throne. Why wouldn't you want it?"

Gemi paused his wandering, "It was never supposed to be mine, I've told you that before." he was quiet as he spoke. His fingers stretched over the banister, gripping tightly to the stone as he leaned forward. "My sister was born first."

Will's head cocked to the side, the muscles in his cheeks flaring. He took a tentative step forward, but then paused where he was. "Then-" his eyes roamed to the side, his lips forming a soft, "Oh…"

Gemi sighed, taking a moment to cast a short look over at Will before he continued. "She and my mother died… a long time ago when the Loraynios took over."

Will could only blink in response. "They killed them?"

"Yes," Gemi paused, gently rolling his tongue over his lips, "I was just a child then, barely a fifteen hundred years of age. I could hardly fire a ket'la much less fight a full grown man."

Will stood, unfazed at first by his starting words; he was far more focused on the sight of grief that had stiffened Gemi's body and the glazed look of reminiscence that had fallen over his eyes. Gemi stared out over his kingdom, though Will doubted the beauty reached his mind. Will watched his knees quiver, nearly collapsing under the weight of his memories.

"The soldiers killed my mother as she protected Kena. He just… I was trying to hid and saw… the soldier came after me but Kelnor was there and shot him with a ket'la arrow. He was still young then," the king joked, laughing as he turned to look at him. Will forced a solemn smirk, it was all he could do against the churning in his stomach brought upon by the horrific image Gemi had painted in his mind.

"Do you know how traumatic it is for a small child to see his supposed protectors try to kill him? To watch as they kill your mother and sister? I can still to this day remember the fear in my father's eyes." Will could only toss his head back and forth a few times. Never before had he met the late king, but he could image what his daughter and son had seen in his eyes; he could imagine a young Gemi, the size of an eight year old, gazing into the dark eyes of a trusted guard.

"The second sun will be rising soon. We should retire inside."

/-/-/-/

/- _**Two Days Later **_

The yawn escaped him. After two hours of trying to hold it back, of trying to hide his drooping eyes and wandering thoughts, his body finally betrayed him. Byron glanced at him but Riker stood, turning his back to the Betazoid's searching eyes. He had no plan after standing and suddenly found himself walking to the Helm. His hand strayed to the back of the chair and the Ensign looked up at him. "How far are we from Betazed?"

"Two days, sir."

He nodded, resisting the urge to rub his eyes as he looked away from her. He rubbed at his nose, twisting to get around the chair without having to look back at Byron. "The bridge is yours, Byron."

Byron was already on his feet staring curiously at Riker's back. He looked over his shoulder, catching Lieutenant Malory's gaze. The tactical officer just nodded at the understood order.

Riker was already through the door when Byron stepped up to it. He took the final step inside, not waiting to be summoned in, or even acknowledged. Riker, so preoccupied with the millions of matters on his mind, simply continued on his way to his desk. He pushed back the chair, sank down into it, and began shuffling PADDs and translucent papers.

Byron took the opportunity to speak then. Clearing his throat, he spoke gently, "You should go to bed, sir."

Riker's hand jerked, but that was his only show of being shocked. Slowly, he raised his eyes to find Byron standing, his hands claps behind his back, shoulders straight, chin raised, and eyes fixed in Riker's direction. But then he merely dropped his eyes back to the PADD in his hand. "Is that an order?"

"If I could make it one, it would be."

Riker sighed, dropping the PADD. Finally the temptation had become too much and he raised his hand to rub at his tired eyes. "Sleep sounds good, however it's not easy to come by."

"It would help if you spent some time in your bed rather than behind that desk."

"I have a lot to do."

"Respectfully, so do I, sir, but I sleep once in a while."

Riker lifted his head from its resting place in his hand. Byron was startled by the annoyance hardening in his eyes. It took every ounce of defiance in his being to hold his eyes and not shrink away at the anger. It amazed him that Riker was the first to look away. His eyes dropped and were once again entertained by shuffling around translucent papers. "You can leave now."

Byron straightened, and the victory of winning the staring match evaporated from his stance. For a long while, he could do nothing but look at Riker. But, despite the fact that he knew Riker could feel his presence, he never looked back up. Finally, defeated, Byron turned on his heels.

He sensed it as soon as he passed into the adjacent room. His eyes were drawn to Lieutenant Malory. "What is it?"

"We just got word from Yenyae," he looked up from the tactical console. Byron could tell that he had just been looking at a written message. "The Mikolians attacked."

He took a moment to digest the news, the fact that they had left only a day ago, the fact that they were just barely close enough to render assistance. His eyes dropped to the floor as he thought and then followed the floor to Riker's Ready Room. "Turn us around. Warp 9."

"Sir," Lieutenant Malory shook his head, "The Yenyarians were able to thwart the attack. The Mikolians have been pushed back into their space."

Byron sighed and shook his head. He wondered how long the battle had lasted, how devastating the damage was, he wondered how attached the Admiral truly was to those people. His eyes remained fixed on the Ready Room door as he spoke, "Warp 7 then. The Admiral will still want to return there."

"Aye, sir."

He glanced back at the viewscreen to watch as the ship slowed and pivoted. Then he felt the shift, the shudder, the sudden shift to a higher warp speed. Then his eyes turned away again and his feet moved of their own accord and he stalked back into Riker's office.

/-/-/-/

/- _**A Few Days Later**_

Pounding. Pounding. It was a sad sound. A steady, slow, sad sound.

The drums beat continuously and, as he listened, he wondered if they would ever stop now.

Gemi stood, his body erect and his eyes frozen forward, unwavering from a fixed point before him. His left foot moved forward, compelling his body to follow. Then his right went, his left jumping to the front in an endless, winnerless race.

A whisper passed by his ears, but he couldn't hear the words. A breeze seemed to carry it away, beckoning the song away from him, compelling him to chase after it.

_He couldn't bring himself to listen to them bicker- couldn't be bothered with expending energy on them. He imagined that he must look deep in concentration, taking in thoughts and suggestions with rapped attention, formulation and plotting as they went. He imagined that his glazed eyes, his slacked face, his slouched position gave him an air of interest. He imagined that they were so involved in their discussion that they never noticed any of these signs. _

As the mark upon the ground grew closer, Gemi slowly grew more aware of himself. A few meters away, Kelnor stood waiting for him. A few other surrounded him- Pelnor, Tristam, an old friend of his father's. With every thundering beat and every whispered word, their faces grew clearer and his objective grew agonizingly closer.

_Zaniah's voice drew his focus back. The slow words of their native tongue tugged his mind through the cloud of haze, leading him back to see the room, the faces, the concern, the materials of war and debate. _

_He saw the people, he watched their hands fly in meaningless gestures helping to articulate their thoughts. He saw their mouths move, he heard the words spoken, but no meaning filled them. He saw the way they looked to him, the way they paused for his opinion, but he didn't understand the gesture. He didn't speak, and, after a pause, someone interrupted and another argument arose. _

With his final step, the pulsing of the drums faded from his mind, the teasing whisper had been blown away with the last gust.

He felt his face break, for the first time showing signs that his numbness had begun to ebb, a familiar churning feeling replacing it.

One foot fell behind the other and, with a sharp twist, his body whipped around. Gemi was forced to swallow hard at the sight, wishing desperately not to loose what last of his control he had left.

For nearly a kilometre, stretchers lined the path he had just walked. They went back down the flat land before him, up the stairway that led to the main complex, along the city wall, and deep within the city itself were more that he could not yet see.

_He felt the hard floor beneath his feet. He felt the way his arms shifted, his hands gripped the armrest, the way his entire weight shifted forward before his back straightened and his body grew rigid. He felt the steady cadence of his heels clicking on the stone, his toes scrapping against it as he raised his foot into the air. He felt the disturbance throughout the room, the stillness that overcame the Elders. He felt the way all eyes refocused, watching him, waiting. _

Two hundred had once been such an insignificant number to him. Two hundred years passed smoothly, a relatively short time. Two hundred years barely marked a small fraction of his life. Two hundred had been about a forth of the Yenyarians living with him in the caves before the civil war. Two hundred had hardly been notable in the population of the capital city. It took two hundred steps to walk a fraction of the length of the city wall. Two hundred litres of water barely satisfied a small child's daily thirst. Two hundred had never been an important number.

Four days before, two hundred had become significant. Staring out at the stream of people, he knew that just over two hundred stretchers followed him.

He knew better than to look away, but he couldn't look down. Will stood just to his left; the Human just nodded at him and Gemi looked away.

Zaniah stood up above on the city wall, looking down at him. Gemi couldn't help but catch his eye. The old man shook his head, his greying hair blowing into his eyes as a gust of wind caught it.

Gemi looked down then, knowing somehow that it was expected of him. The stream of stretchershad halted before him. Hers was the first. Izellah. She laid there, eyes closed peacefully, hands resting over her stomach. Gemi took a steady breath, his eyes closing against the steady beating of the thundering drums.


	38. Year 14: 2385

_Author's Note: _Well, we're getting down to the last two years... Hope you're still enjoying!

**/-/- **

**Year Fourteen: 2385**

Years of living off cold coffee had taught Riker one important thing. Quickly he had learned that exhaustion could do weird things to a person's brain. It could make them want to weep, to feel the pain and grief and sorrow they had so long held inside. It could make them want to laugh, though no funny thing occurred. It could make them want to collapse in a loud heap; want to stand for fear of finally succumbing to its power. It could make reality a haze, and imagined things suddenly come to life. It could make a person shake or become utterly too still. It could install the desire to want to scream or never say another word again. But, most strangely, it could make a person feel nothing at all. And, for much of the past decade, he had felt little. Anything he felt came in the form of a dull ache, a dull memory, a dulled sense of being.

Certainly he had come to respect exhaustion's powers to play with one's eyes. Lines flashed over PADDs, spots smudged out parts of names- names that had once belonged to living people. No amount of rubbing ended the blurriness. No amount of coffee or stimulants entirely restored vision.

For hours he merely sat at his desk, staring at the hovering starcharts, blinking and rubbing in desperate attempts to accomplish something that night. But the more he stared, the more he became convinced, beyond rational judgement, that the Federation had taken over Romulan space and that the Klingons had become slaves to the Breen Empire. Colours simply blurred too much to be accurate in his mind.

He startled himself by swinging his arm over his desk, warping the holographic starchart. And then he simply froze. The only movement in the room was the gentle rustle of his breath, his chest rising and falling in a slow rhythm.

Finally he sighed, collapsing into his chair. For a moment, it rocked back and forth, making Riker appear to be shaking his head. Eventually his feet grounded themselves against the floor and the swaying ended. Once again, he returned to his staring. But, no longer was his focus on the ever changing colours, but instead on a random point on the farthest wall.

He didn't need the starchart to tell him that the Federation had gained control of some of the Alliance's major planets. Cardassian space they had held for over three years. They controlled Keb, a nearby planet, and Galios, Talos, Dekari, and Bajor had all recently fallen to them. Trill had fallen nearly two years ago- still it pained him to see such a beautiful planet scarred so badly. Vigo, as well, had been in Federation hands for two years.

So much of Alliance space was slowly being encroached upon. So many vital planets. They had control of the wormhole. Of two high ranking Alliance worlds. Of worlds that supplied vital materials. Their boarders had stretched dangerously close to other major worlds.

He couldn't help but ponder what their next move would be. Certainly hitting Betazed, Vulcan, or Bolius would be a major blow. But defences had grown considerably in the area- their chances of success weren't as certain as they seemed in the Bajoran system, but not entirely unachievable.

He wondered for a time if they would continue pushing in through the Bajoran area. Their fleet would have been weakened in the past battles, but it seemed likely that the Federation had begun supplying them with reinforcements in the area.

Suddenly, a smudge of blue caught his eye, and Riker couldn't help but find himself staring at the starchart again.

It was exhaustion again, playing with him. Formulating vague ideas for him. But, for once, he grasped a hold of the thought, letting it play with itself in his mind. And, slowly, an actual plan seemed to be made of it.

As adrenaline began pumping back into his system, the blurriness of the starchart receded, becoming clearer and more easily understood. For the first time in hours, he could see fleet deployment and read the list of starships in each area. They fluctuated occasionally as intelligence was updated, but the approximant numbers were enough for him.

The longer he looked, the more math he did, the more he planned and reassembled the numbers in his head, the more he was sure it could work and the more confident he became in his half-cocked plan. He was sure that, if everything worked right, he could sweep right through and take back the Bajoran sector. And, if that worked, they could move right into Cardassian space and free Cardassia Prime.

/-/-/-/

/- _**The Next Day**_

The room was silent. Which, in Riker's mind, was quite the feat considering the people filling it. It was rarity that Du'art and Jackson weren't fighting. And once Admiral Vasilii- the Vigo Admiral on Vigo- got the chance to talk, he wouldn't allow himself to be silenced for at least an hour- even then he often continued his rambling.

His proposal was a radical idea. That's what had quieted them.

The young man was hiding back in the corner. Admiral Keshna hadn't dismissed him; he didn't need to leave, though there was nothing for him to do for her just yet.

Jackson grunted and shifted in his chair. Riker watched him for a short moment. Already Jackson had done that four times, and every time Riker knew that he was finding some small insignificant detail that he thought of as a flaw. Jackson had never seemed to like him and Riker didn't doubt that he had never gotten past their earlier encounters from just before the war had begun. Back when Betazed still followed the law of Amen and Admiral Jackson was convinced that Riker had done something to kill Picard- a formerly close friend of his. Riker wondered if he still believed that it that might be true.

His eyes started to roam again. The bland walls; the far table; the pitcher of water surrounded with glasses; the replicator on the wall; the viewscreen; the door. The young aid was still just standing against the wall.

Captain Diego was the first to set the PADD down. Riker looked to him, hoping to gauge some reaction from his face. But the Dekarian leaned back into his chair, holding his chin in his hand. Riker didn't have to like him to know that his opinion was a valued one. He wasn't blinded by the desk and allure of a cushy office. His mind was still out in the field with his men. If anyone was going to bluntly tell him what a horrible idea his was, it would be Diego.

Riker didn't notice that Keshna, too, had set down the PADD and had, at some point, beckoned her aid forward. When he looked over, the man was bent over, his ear to Keshna's lips, and nodded a few times at what she had said. He couldn't begin to speculate what she might be telling him. Nothing about what she had just read. And she wasn't one to order her aid around for mundane things like food and water and other such nonsensical things.

When the aid straightened, Riker's eye caught the white strip twinning around his uniform. It was an odd thing to notice, but Riker couldn't honestly remember how long that colour had been in existence. It had been nearly ten years since the Alliance had designed their own uniforms and green and purple had been incorporated to identify engineers and scientists apart from their security, command, and medical colleagues. Purple wasn't often seen any longer. But at some point, white had been added as well to distinguish those who held diplomatic positions. Planet bound officers working with members of High Command or with a member of the Alliance Council wore such a colour. They were mostly cadets with field promotions.

Riker leaned back into his chair, waiting for the last three to finish the report. It was filled mostly with a skeleton of what he wanted to accomplish over the next year. He had computed the numbers- the personnel, the ships, the supplies- and had compiled a plausible method of reassigningthe fleets. It could be done- he was sure of it- but as he watched them, that confident air was slowly draining from his being. Somewhere, in the back of his mind, he realized that there must be something he had missed. He just prayed that he wasn't showing his thoughts as he sat there waiting to debate with the rest of High Command over the insanity he had proposed.

Keshna's aid hovered just in the back. Riker wondered what he was waiting around for.

He could hear another PADD being laid onto the table top, but he didn't look back to see who had finished reading.

The aid rocked on his heels with his hands clasped casually behind his back. He wondered if the young man enjoyed a place within politics and the safety of firm soil beneath his feet. He wondered if some officers like him resented the positions that they had received, planet bound and away from the glory of battle. He wondered how many of their field bound counterparts would gladly swap places for a chance of life.

"This plan, Riker, will get us all killed."

The gravely voice was enough to catch his attention, but his eyes only glanced in the direction of the voice. Admiral Hilger was shaking his head, staring down at the PADD. As the Admiral of the Gamma Fleet, he would be the reinforcements within two key battles. His point was valid- Riker didn't doubt that many under his command would be lost. He didn't doubt that many under his own command would meet a similar fate.

The aid stilled at Hilger's comment. Riker couldn't help but wonder at his age. He was so young, fresh from the Academy, no doubt. How many just like him- a little older, a little younger- filled those thousands of ships. How many just like him would meet their ends during the next few months. He wondered, but only briefly- he had no time to dwell on such thoughts.

"What you're proposing," someone continued- he looked back to see Diego talking, "is suicide."

"Suicide? Possibly. But sitting back and doing nothing, is just as dangerous."

/-/-/-/

/-_** March, Three Weeks Later**_

He still remembered the day when he had first addressed the whole of his ship. It was back when he was still a Commander, when Picard still captained the _Enterprise_. Picard had been preparing a short speech the crew, congratulating them on some latest achievement. Absently, he had inquired as to if Riker had ever done something like that and Riker just shook his head. For a beat, Picard regarded him, eyeing him. Riker, feeling awkward, had just straightened and waited for him to respond. Then, suddenly, Picard had tossed his PADD at Riker and informed him that he would give the address and that he should add his own personal touches.

Standing, Riker sighed. He remembered that moment of anxiety- he had never been good with talking in front of large groups and Deanna had laughed at his insecurity. The memory was clear in his mind but his first speech in front of a group of ships, a fleet, was gone. He couldn't definitely recall when or where it had happened, he couldn't recall what he had said or why, he couldn't recall how he had felt in the moment. He knew he had gotten used to by then, he knew because, as he swallowed and cleared his throat, he felt no jitters of nerves, no shaking, no uncertainty of his oration skills. He simply closed his eyes and ran over what he wanted to say.

"The channel's open, sir." He caught the Lieutenant's gaze, a curt nod his response.

Turning back to face the viewscreen, he was met with the sight of only a fraction of the fleet. Fifty ships somehow making an appearance, most blocking each other. "A man named Norman Schwarzkopf once said that it doesn't take a hero to order men into battle. It takes a hero to be one of those men who goes into battle…" He took a beat to turn his gaze from the impersonal ships and let his eyes wonder over his bridge. First they fell on Commander Byron; the Betazoid sat composed at the right of his Captain's chair. Then the tactical officer behind him, horribly fixed at attention. And finally the others behind him, trying their best to imitate the rigid bravado. "You are all heroes and I ask you to follow me. I ask you to march into battle, knowing the dangers, and retake our worlds, our space, and our people. Follow me and we will win this war."

The first cheer startled him. Over the speakers, a whooping and cheering and clapping attacked his ears. Turning, he noticed the smirks on his crew's face. A second cheer started- a new crew- and finally his bridge joined in. New voices cheered as old ones faded away, leaving an echoing strain of pointless chatter. Even so, despite the obvious lack of military decorum, Riker couldn't help but smirk. He couldn't help but be impressed by how accepting they were of the impossible task that lay ahead.

"All hands to battle stations. Shields at max, phasers charged, torpedoes ready." His final words, orders to the fleet, echoed in his ears as his hands gripped the armrests of his chair and he sank down onto the edge. Riker leaned over just as Byron leaned forward to meet him, the Betazoid sensing he had something to say. "If we win this," he whispered, cautious of those around them, "it will truly be a miracle."

Riker tipped his head to the side; Byron watched him, his face paling just noticeably. He glanced down, then back out at the fleet. "How many do you think?" Riker just looked out, visualizing the carnage that would be left whenever a victor was declared, and shook his head.

He took a deep breath, trying to wipe the thought from his mind. "Drop out of warp…"

/-/-

It was a lone light, twirling and twisting, sailing farther away. A matter of seconds transformed into hours; time stretched slowly, painfully.

For a time- when Admiral Riker had briefed him on the mission- Byron had felt the excitement of the crew. He had joined in the renewed hope and spirit. But as their fleet slowed and dropped from warp, as Riker finished his speech and expressed his views, the anxiety that so often accompanied battle began to sink in and he felt the jittering fears of death.

The shields shimmered as the glowing light finally hit its target.

/-/-

Systematically, the haul ripped from its seams, crumbling in on itself, blowing out into the ragging battle. If he watched closely, Data knew he could predict where it would continue to break; he knew that he could estimate how long until the ship would explode.

On an impulse, he let his eyes shut, closing out the image of one of his fellow Alliance ships. He could have done it without even thinking about it.

He had learned to understand humour, to understand and identify and accept emotions. He had developed a sense of humour, a taste for food, a distinct taste in music. He had learned sensitivity, he had learned to understand and follow social norms. But, while he understood what every human saw when they looked out at an exploding ship, he had never once felt that same thing.

/-/-

At the Academy, Geordie had been told about the dangers, about the risks, about the courage it took to be a good officer and good engineer. It hadn't been until his fourth assignment that he had learned how true these dangers were.

He watched his younger charges as they faced problems they had brushed aside as exaggerations back in school. Bulkheads fell, breaking their arms, crushing their bodies, causing head injuries, all because they hadn't learned to identify the danger.

Nearly every engineer that went to Sickbay went with plasma burns because they had never been taught properly how to protect themselves or how to properly repair leaks. He wanted to be everywhere for them, fixing all the things that kept killing his engineers, but he couldn't. He couldn't fix everything.

/-/-

He couldn't help but notice the way they flowed together; the way the Ketrelians had merged together, joining the Yenyarian forces without orders and without conscious thought. More noticeable was the way they hadn't attacked a single Federation or Breen ship, but instead they had concentrated their combined forces on the Mikolians.

Thousands of years had passed and gone were the generations of Ketrelians who knew the Yenyarians, who knew their tactics, knew how to fight with them. Gone were the Mikolians who knew the Yenyarians, who knew how to fight them. A new breed of Mikolians and Ketrelians had grown, learning over the past decade how to fight and kill each other. And yet, for a race who still remembered the old battles, the old tactics, the old generations, they so easily joined the battle.

Riker just watched, letting himself become absorbed in a world he could only imagine. A world that existed thousands of years ago, when a different alliance of races ruled the quadrant. He wondered how spectacular their battles were back when their technologies were the supreme, when no others were there to contest them, when civil war broke out between them. But that was long since a dream and as he awoke from it, he came to realize how little things had changed since they ruled the quadrant.

/-/-

There were so many wonderful things about her job that it hurt to realize just how many horrible things there were to balance it out.

To her, what made a job the hardest was a glance over examination and a rushed treatment before sending them back out to the fight. It was hard to see young men and women with still bleeding cuts, with sore hands and sore legs, with freshly healed burns rushing back out to their stations. She hated it.

But Crusher knew the one thing she hated more. She hated the frantic young people, limping into her Sickbay, a friend thrown over their shoulder or dragging behind them. She hated looking them in the eye to tell them that their friend was dead or had no hope of life. She hated the way they shook their heads, the way they flatly denied it, the way they knelt down and tried to wake their friend. She hated that she was annoyed at the time they were wasting. She hated that she had stopped feeling their pain with them. She hated herself.

/-/-

His skills for evading capture had faded over years of disuse. It seemed like another lifetime since he had been out hiding from hostile aliens in the gamma quadrant. But, very quickly, the basics had come flooding back to him. He had remembered quickly how to silence his footsteps and how to make it hard to track him.

But travel and evasion had been made difficult by four young Ensigns who had never been properly trained for such adventures and by three wounded officers- one who couldn't use his right leg, another with a head injury, and a third with a nasty, infected gash on his arm. Their only saving grace had been Dr. Bashir's medical knowledge and returning survival skills and Lieutenant Commander Lezah's former service in the Bajoran resistance movement.

From where they had crashed in the Northern Havyn, it had taken them seventeen days to travel fifty kilometer southeast into Southern Havyn. They had traveled at night, mostly through rural areas. Lezah had suggested the mountains, but Julian had protested on behalf of the three wounded men. Federation patrols weren't often in the areas they passed through, but they had constantly needed to find shelter- the wounded needed rest and protection. Julian had commented that that was where Captain Sisko and Commander Lezah excelled. Lezah traveled by homes and people he knew- either personally or through reputation- and it had been a rare occurrence that they would stop at a home he didn't know. When he knew they needed to stop, the other nine would hide as he went through the back way. The approach would depend on the relationship, but for the most part, he would introduce himself as speaking on behalf of the Emissary. Once they knew that he was traveling with Sisko, they would quickly agreed to whatever he asked. Their sympathies grew when he told them about their plight and the three wounded men with them. Food was offered in quantities the families couldn't afford and they offered shelter in basements and secret rooms to keep them hidden for a few hours. One of the first families they had stayed with gave them new clothing and burned their uniforms, allowing them safer passage.

They had spent another week in Havyn before they made it somewhere Lezah trusted that they could stay for an indefinite amount of time. It had been a cold night the night they limped through the forest. Winter was approaching and the wind was picking up, whistling through the trees and keeping them all huddled together and on their toes. It had been made worse when Julian took a step ahead of the others. He had heard the splash before feeling the wetness seep into his shoe. Looking down, he found that he had stepped into small creek before them. As he turned to warn the others, Lezah had tapped his shoulder and had begun to lead them along the creek. Julian hadn't been able to help but feel that the wind helped to echo the squeaking of his shoe to the Starfleet listening posts. Not quite a kilometre away, they had come to the end of the creek, finding that it filtered into a pond. The area was open- a pond with stepping stones in the centre and a flourishing garden protecting it from the public eye. And, far at the other end of the garden, an angular walkway led to a large, cathedral like building.

"This is Havyn's main Temple. It was built thousands of years before the Cardassian rule. It was actually brutally damaged during the initial take over but was rebuilt slowly over the past one hundred years."

"Wow… it's gorgeous."

"They know you here?" Sisko had asked. Julian had known that it was because they could see the sun creeping over the treetops and shelter was vital after the frigid temperatures of the night. But Julian still had to shake his head. While he had understood the caution of entering into just anyone's home- while he doubted many on Bajor were collaborators, there was always the potential for stumbling onto a Federation sympathizer- but there would never be a soul who lived within a Bajoran Temple who would reveal the location of their Emissary. Julian would stake his life on it.

Lezah had bobbed his head positively, "Yeah, I actually helped with the last few stones during the final years of the occupation. And because of you, Captain, they won't dare turn us away. They'll help us; and I think we can trust them to keep us safe for as long as it's safe to stay here."

"How long do you think that will be?"

Lezah had shaken his head. "As long as we think we're safe. First indication that someone saw something they shouldn't have, we're leaving. There's a lot of Temples throughout the providence, every one of them will take us in for a time if they can."

With that, he prepared to sneak away from the group as he always did, but Sisko had grabbed his shoulder. Lezah had turned to look at him, his brow furrowing. Sisko had just shaken his head and stepped in front of Lezah. Julian had looked up at him, shrugging, and beckoned him to follow their Captain.

Suffice to say, the Bajoran priests had been more than happy to take them in. Julian was even able to get supplies and medical equipment for the wounded officers. Injured Bajorans somehow had gotten word that they could receive educated help from the Temple, causing a panic. Lezah hadwanted to leave, but Julian couldn't turn any of them away. Word even made it to other hiding Alliance Fleet officers to make their way to Havyn main Temple. Within the seven of months that they were there, seventeen other Deep Space Nine officers were hidden in the depths of the Temple.

As a procedure became more practiced and concrete, the officers began to enjoy a more liberatedfeeling within the compound. They were given robes to wear, allowing the Bajorans among them to fit in seamlessly and the Humans to look almost like they belonged. They could walk through the gardens, halting, terrified, whenever the bells sounded, knowing that they had minutes to get to a secret passageway.

On that day, seven of months after they had evacuated the station, Julian stood standing in the centre of the pond, his pantlegs rolled up and his shoes left on the stone walkway. His attention was so focused on his feet as his toes played in the sand, digging and undigging themselves that he didn't notice the bells in the distance or Sisko walked out from under the covered walkway.

"Julian? What are you doing out here? Didn't you hear the bells?"

"Bells?"

"We sounded them four times. Come on, it's time to eat." Sisko smirked and slowly Julian returned his focus enough to let a small grin tug at his lips. "You know how they are."

"Yeah," Julian sighed, "I'll be there in a minute."

"What are you doing anyway?"

"Just… thinking… about home."

Sisko sighed. "I know. I miss Jake too."

"I just hope Jadzia's all right."

"I'm sure she is. Kira'll take good care of her crew."

"Yeah… I know." Julain dropped his head, his chin falling to his chest, his eyes returning to his feet, watching them bury and unbury themselves. "I grew up near an ocean- the Atlantic Ocean." He looked up then, wondering why he was saying it aloud, but Sisko didn't seem upset by the revelation, instead he nodded, almost interested. "I spent a lot of time from the age of eight to eighteen swimming and fishing and boating… I've always meant too but… you know JJ and Ty have never been to an ocean- or really any body of water. I plan on bringing them when the war settled down or ends or something."

"That's a good plan. I hope it's soon."

"Me too… at this point, just seeing them would be enough."

A lone bell sounded off in the distance. The compound was vast, more so than the view from the gardens suggested, and the bell tower was located near the northern building. Julian just shook his head, knowing that the bell had been rung by a scrawny little Bajoran named Eirrac. "They really do get impatient about meals, don't they?"

Sisko smirked with him; he even let out a soft chuckle at the inner joke among some of the Human officers. But another tone on the bells caused their smirks to fade. They stood there, silent, as they listened. Three more bells sounded in quick succession, followed by a sixth final low ring. It was an all too familiar sound, one burned into their minds, their ears constantly perked and listening for the short melody.

As soon as the tones had stopped and Sisko and Julian had sense enough to walk out of the water, a young Bajoran training to become a priest rushed from the covered walkway. He made a sloppy bow before Sisko, respectfully announcing himself before grabbing Sisko's arm and tugging him in the direction of the nearest building. "Please, we must hurry, Emissary."

"What's happening?"

"We have received word that Alliance fleets have attacked Starfleet forces around Deep Space Nine. Federation personnel are evacuating the planet. We need to get you to safety until they are gone."

"Evacuating?" Julian asked, one step behind Sisko and the young priest. "Doesn't that mean they think they're losing?"

The priest sent a smirk over his shoulder at Julian but shook his head as he turned them down the corridor. "That is all we know. Please, come faster. We do not want you harmed so close to liberation."

/-/-

It was the most peculiar feeling she had ever experienced. There was her station, her home, right before her. But the obstacles, the Federation ships and Breen ships blocking her from her goal, were there, firing at her and attempting to dissuade her.

No matter how many skirmishes she had led the _Defiant _into after the station had been overrun, no matter how many times she had defended another piece of space or attempted to overtake another, she familiar feeling came back. The loyalty, the necessity of defending the station. It was hard for her to believe that she had no control over the station. It was hard to believe that her own station was firing on Alliance fleet ships.

All she could do was pray. Pray to the Profits to save them. She prayed to them to let them win.

/-/-

He had come to expect, to anticipate the tranquility. There was an anxiety, a gut wrenching, twisting feeling- a nervousness just before the battle. The adrenaline rush, the fear, the chaos started, creating a dizzying mess. And then, all too late, it ended, fading into a calmness, leaving the bitter sweetness of victory or stinging bruise of defeat.

Riker stood, swallowing the bitterness as he peered out at the sight of destruction. It was a win, a painful win, one that would be followed by many slow, anguishing months of bitter wins and undoubtedly many losses.

/-/-

"Sir, we're receiving a communiqué from the planet."

"From Bajor?" Kira looked down at her comm. officer.

The young man shook his head, "From an Epsilon team."

"On screen." With her order, she lifted her head, watching her station fade into a man's face. He wasn't looking at her when the link cleared. She raised her chin in annoyance, but waited for him to finish his conversation. When it began to take longer than she had patience for, she finally announced herself, "Commander? Is there something you needed or are you just wasting my time?"

"_My apologies, Captain."_ His accent- some kind of Earth accent she supposed- met her ears finally and she felt herself soften some, too tired not to. _"But I have several people here who would like to be beamed onto your ship if that's at all possible… I also have two men here who would like to say something."_

She sighed. She watched absently as he backed out of the screen, beckoning to someone, but her mind was more focused on how long until their transporters were online and how much room they possibly had to transport people. It would take a couple of hours and they had room for maybe two dozen if they only wanted passage to Deep Space Nine.

"_Hello, Neyrs."_

It was the name more than the voice. She had been expecting a Captain or a familiar Bajoran. She had expected to hear her rank called out to grab her attention. She hadn't been expecting the soft tones of her name.

Slowly her eyes rose to find another pair staring back at her. Soft blue, tired, happy eyes. Her lips tugged and her eyes smiled. "Julian?" He nodded dumbly, his own grin spreading. "Julian!" Her eyes were immediately drawn to Jadzia, the Trill perched at the comm. Kira couldn't see her face, but she knew that she was smiling, fighting the urge to jump up and run for the viewscreen.

"Yeah… Captain Sisko's right- he's coming over here. Ensign Siles, Lieutenant Cho… well, there's about twenty others from the crew that made it here. Odo too. He made it here a week or so ago with a couple others."

"Where are you?"

Julian smiled over at his wife. He glanced back over at Kira, before tell the bridge, "We're at the Havyn Main Temple. The Vedeks here kept us safe for the past few months."

"Captain Kira." Kira nodded at the new face, smiling a bit brighter at the sight of him looking healthy. Captain Sisko, too, was smirking in the face of his liberation. "You wouldn't happen to have transport capabilities?"

"Miles will have them up and running within the hour, sir. We'll have you guys up here and back at the station in a couple of hours."

"Sounds good." He paused, then asked, "How does she look?"

"I… She's in one piece. As far as I can tell from the outside… I imagine she's quite the mess."

"Well then… tell the Chief to get moving on those transporters. We've got a lot of cleaning to do."

"Aye, sir. I'll tell him."

Sikso just nodded once more and Kira nodded back. She watched as Sisko patted Julian's shoulder; the Human shook his head, glancing at Sisko first before reaching forward to shut off the comm.

"Well, Jadzia… they're alive." Her friend just nodded. Kira understood the feeling, or rather lack there of. She wondered sometimes if she'd ever learn to feel again.

/-/-/-/

/- _**A Few Days Later**_

The promenade was a mangled, twisted mess. But then, it had been a long time since it hadn't been. Jadzia watched as teams of civilians, engineers, and officers all took on the daunting task of cleaning the disaster.

An elbow in the side startled her and her head whipped to the side to met Kira's eyes. She smiled dully, her eyes too tired to relay an emotion she might be feeling. "Are you going to stand there all day, or help me over here?" Jadzia sighed lightly, bobbing her head affirmatively.

Her hands were already sore from months of picking up after the skirmishes the _Defiant_ had been constantly ducking out of. Blisters had healed, leaving rough calluses. A sharp piece of jagged metal pierced the skin, but she was too numb to notice it beyond her initial wince of pain.

Kira worked slowly beside her, slowly draining of her own reserve energy. Jadzia couldn't help but notice how her eyes had begun to sag and how she started to drop things more often as the minutes dragged by.

"So…" The word passed over her lips before Jadzia had time to think of something to follow. The monotony of the work was being to bore her and the clinking of metal and muttering of other workers was not enough noise to replace the awkward silence between them. "Have you heard the rumours about some celebration Quark's planning?"

"I've heard some things. Something about a famous celebrity is supposed to be coming… I don't know. I think I would rather spend the time sleeping but it would be good for moral."

"If nothing else, yeah."

Kira nodded in response. Jadzia looked over at her; her hands paused over the scrap sheets of metal. Kira was simply staring down into a dark void between bulkheads and twisted sheets of metal. "Nerys?"

For a short time, Jadzia wasn't convinced that Kira had heard her. As she opened her mouth to say her name again, the Bajoran raised her head, green eyes eerily blank. "It's Ensign Essex's body…"

Jadzia forced herself not to look down, not to wonder what killed him- the bulkhead, the explosion, the broken plasma conduit. "I'll get a medical unit down here…" her words trailed off as she went to tap her commbadge, but her mind became more occupied by her friend. "Kira, why don't you go to bed? You need rest."

"No, I don't want to just… not help… I need to be doing something."

"Sleeping's a very important something. Come on. Go sleep. I'll handle this area."

When Kira offered no further fight, but instead just stood there staring at a point on the far wall, Jadzia took her arm gently and led her to a cleaned area. Kira stayed there for a moment before catching Jadzia's eyes. Then she turned; Jadzia watched, making sure that she made it to the turbolift. Finally she forced herself to breathe deeply and then let it out in a long, slow sigh.

/-/-/-/

/- _**That Night**_

The little Human wasn't bad. Quark would admit that he had never cared for his style of music- some kind of mixture of Earth music and Betazoid instruments. But it was the Alliance's newest favourite and so he had pulled a few strings to get the famous band to come play at his bar.

The steady beating of some kind of percussion instrument had even him bobbing to the music. The angelic waves of the string, harplike instrument had most of the crew crowding the stage, making up their own versions of the dance. He didn't often broadcast the fact that he did indeed have a heart, nor did he often do anything that might indicate it, but he felt that, after everything he and the other officers had been through, he felt a celebration was in order. A night of discounted drinks, half-priced food, and musical entertainment. He had tried to keep the identity a secret but as soon as he let out the word that he was planning such a celebration night, the band had been revealed. He had kept the second band such a secret, however, that no one had even known that there was one. He surprised even himself sometimes.

As he stood there, bobbing his head to the beat and drying out the used glass, a slurred cursing caught his attention, pulling it away from the makeshift stage and Dabo girls. Quark paused half-way through cleaning the glass as his eyes searching the bar for the source. Finally, at the other end, Chief O'Brien caught his attention. Miles absently rose his glass, his hand somewhat awkward in the air. He glanced to the side in hopes of finding someone to wait on him, but when no one presented himself, he huffed, placed the glass on the counter, and walked over to Miles.

"Another."

"You've already had quite a few. I think it's time to call it a night."

"I said," he raised his eyes, scolding Quark with their drunken fury, "Get me another."

Reluctantly he retrieved the used cup and poured a healthy amount. Holding it back out to the Irishman, he reconsidered handing it to him, but Miles had already grabbed it from his hand. Quark was surprised that he hadn't spilled the entire thing when he did.

With his drink in hand, Miles seemed content to forget that Quark was even in the same room as him. His elbow rested on the table, his hand holding the drink held out in front of him, Miles just stared at it.

The more he looked, the more he was overcome with the fact that it was blue. Romulan ale was an occasionalindulgence of his and, with their alliance to the Romulans it was no longer illegal to get some. But there was something about its blueness that he had never noticed before. A subtle and yet bright blue. Glittering with the light and shinning even when in the dark. But the simple fact that it was blue triggered something in his mind.

"Her eyes were blue, you know?"

No response came. He didn't entirely expect one. He just kept staring, carefully regarding the drink.

"She was twenty and a damn fine engineer. Twenty… and she was funny. After all that damn cleanin' up and lit'le repair jobs every other minute, she certainly knew how to get everyone smilin'… She was…"

He blinked. He didn't know what he had intended on his next words being. "She was killed." He blinked again, finally breaking his trance. His hand moved with sudden speed and he downed nearly half the glass in one gulp.

Soon after, his arm retook its original position and he looked on at the new appearance of his glass. "Did you know that Carson McKillhan could play the piano better than some professional musicians ever could? He died too, you know. Plasma burns to the face- they can't help that…"

He blinked again. "And Mitchell… Paul Mitchell was quite the artist. He used to draw the most… most beautiful landscapes of Bajor… A catwalk collapsed on him…"

"Chief?"

"Shh…" He spared only a moment to cast an annoyed glare at Julian. He returned his attention to the glass in his hand, "I'm having a very engaging conversation with my drink."

Julian looked over at Jadzia. It wasn't often that he saw Miles truly drunk and, walking by just a moment before and seeing Miles speaking to his ale, he had been thoroughly startled. With no other idea, he reached over and grabbed the glass from Miles head. The glass was out of his hand by the time Miles reacted, he could only grab forcefully at thin air. Quark looked up at the interaction and Julian reached over the counter and handed it to Quark. The Frengi took it with a relieved nod. "Give him something to sober him up, Quark."

"Coming right up."

The steady caress against his arm reminded him of why he had come. Looking to the side, he smirked at his wife. Months of near misses and living off a war torn Bajor only made him miss her more. In the background, the music beckoned him to stay, but Jadzia's hand wrapped itself in his and a slight tug beckoned him out away from the crowds. He just grinned, her pull was far stronger.

/-/-/-/

/- _**Around the Same Time**_

He couldn't decide which was worse- the sight or sound. Moaning, wailing, crying echoed throughout the make-shift hospital. It pained his ears- it pained his heart more that he had become so accustomed to them. But simply the sight of bodies lined along the corridor, blood staining the floor and the bodies and everything that had gotten in the way.

For a short time, he was wandering the corridor, stopping occasionally at the beckoning of a young officer. Hands would grasp his arm, would pull at his uniform, some leaving streaks of blood in their wake. Riker would stop long enough to pay them a few kind words, pat their hand, and offer a smile.

Finally a familiar face poked through a hanging curtain made of beaded strings. At first he was peering down the other end of the corridor, but when he twisted around to look in Riker's way, the Admiral immediately recognized the man as the Yenyarian doctor Kelnor. The doctor took a few steps away from the doorway, gaining Riker's full attention. His voice was tired and curt as he said, "He wants to see you." Riker could only nod mutely and followed the doctor into the room. He glanced over his shoulder, noting how Kelnor paused just outside the reach of the beaded strings, before slowly approaching Gemi's bed.

"Hey. How are you feeling?"

The king's head turned slowly, painfully, in Riker's direction. He paused a moment, wetting his lips and regaining his breath, before responding. "I am going to die, Will."

Will cleared his throat, nodding at Gemi's candour. "We can take you to a medical facility three days-"

"Can they save my life there?"

Will bowed his head at the interruption, embarrassed that his speech was pointlessly prepared. "No, but they can make you-"

"No." The finality of his tone caught Will off guard. His eyes snapped up, and suddenly he felt the urge to turn his head to find Kelnor. The doctor simply ignored his request. "I will leave for Yenyae in the morning. I will either die there, under the sun with my people, or at least die surrounded by my own. Not on some strange planet." He paused again, waiting to catch Will's eyes, "You have been a good friend, Will, but I cannot accept your offer."

Slowly, Will nodded, coming to accept his words. "Okay." The warmth of someone's touch startled him, and he looked sharply behind him to find Kelnor's hand on his shoulder. But then he nodded again, understanding what the doctor was asking. "I'll leave you two alone."

"Goodbye, Will."

"It was a pleasure to know you… and your people."

"And you, Will."

"Goodbye, Gemi."

Gemi blinked as Will turned away. He waited, hesitating to speak until he heard that Will had left the room. Gradually, his eyelids drew opened and blue orbs stared forward.

Kelnor looked down into the sorrow filled eyes, disturbed by the frankness in the young man's voice as he said, "We are a dying race, my old friend, and perhaps we were never meant to be in this war."

"No one is ready for war. It is a truly horrible thing that is thrust upon them."

Gemi's body was sore, and he felt no need to waste the energy to shake his head. "No… no… This was never our war, Kel, never. We helped Admiral Riker, yes, and they helped us, but the Mikolians… It is such an old feud. Even I do not remember its origins. Is it not time for it to end?"

For a time, all Gemi could do was search the old man's eyes, but he was forced to shut his as a coughing fit wracked his body. Kelnor watched, handing him a glass of water once his breathing had returned and helping him to take a few small sips. Gemi coughed again, a softer awkward cough, before he laid his head back down.

"We went to war for my grief, Kel," tears came to his eyes as he unburied his guilt. "The Elders only agreed because they remember why they hate the Mikolians."

"Your grief, Gemi? You stood there as they brought only two hundred of all the dead by you. Only the military, only your family. But had Izellah not been one of the dead, would you have felt any less grief? Any less sorrow? Would you still have gone to war?"

The king swallowed hard, blinking back hot tears. "Yes. I still would have called for war."

"And as their king, they would- they have and still will follow you, regardless of your personal grief. Regardless of an old war. But even with what you felt that day, you still wept with your people… for your people."

"And do you truly believe that they will remain at war with their king dead?"

"They will remain at war for you."

"I want no one else to die in my name. I want no one else to die…"

"As you said, we are already dying, if it happens a few years sooner, so be it."

Gemi couldn't hold back another cough. Kelnor reached for a glass besides the bed, but Gemi pushed it away. "Ask the people what they want- regardless of status, ask and let their opinion be of worth. If they want war, it will by no means be a war of revenge. Do not let it be, Kel. And do not let it be in my name."

"If that is what you want."

"I want peace… and Admiral Riker can bring that. Help him if our people want it."

Kelnor nodded carefully, resting his hand on Gemi's shoulder. "I will, Herr Tan. I will help. Sleep now, you are tired."

"I will decide when I am tired."

"Yes, boy. Now rest. I will return in a few hours."

/-/-

Hmm... looks like the tide might be turning for Riker...


	39. Year 14: 2385, continued

/-/-/-/

/- _**A Week Later**_

"Captain's Log. Stardate: 38503.17.

"Eight days ago, Alliance patrol ships rescued three-hundred and fifty-seven officers from their escapes pods. Just over half belonged to Starfleet. Yesterday, Admiral Hilger interviewed a young Lieutenant… He claimed very quickly to be a member of the Sklig Ntsar- the still active Earth-based resistance movement."

_He rubbed at the bridge of his nose as he turned into the room. Staring down at the list of names, he read the one. "Lieutenant Angelo Lloyd?"_

"_Yes, sir." The voice was crisp, a clipped response. It struck Hilger only because eh hadn't heard such a response from any of the past forty-some prisoners he had interviewed. He looked up; the Lieutenant was standing, his posture strict and respectful, his hands firmly at his sides, his shoulders square, and his eyes focused forward. Hilger nodded, both in appreciation and acknowledgement. Pulling out the chair meant for him, he swept his hand in the direction of the opposite chair. The Lieutenant nodded and relaxed, but waited for the Admiral to be seated before he sat himself. _

"_I would just like to say, Admiral, before we beginning, that I'm a member of the Sklig Ntsar."_

"_The Sklig Ntsar? I am afraid that I know nothing about that organization."_

"_It's… it's a resistance, against the tyrannical reign of President Amen. There are groups all throughout Earth, the Lunar Colony, and the Mars Colony. There are hundreds of members in Starfleet. I've even heard rumours about its influence extending to other Federation planets- they, however, go under different names and different leadership."_

"_It's a Human Resistance?"_

"_Yes, sir."_

"_And for how long have you been a member?"_

"_Four years, sir. I heard about it when I was injured and Earth-bound. But I know that it's existed for at least five years before then. I don't know, President Amen doesn't allow such things to be publicized."_

_Hilger nodded. "Why did you join them?"_

_The Lieutenant shrugged honestly. "I don't know. I've never really agreed with President Amen's policies. I don't agree with this war. And I certainly don't like the fact that his term expired over four years ago."_

_Again, Hilger nodded. "And… tell me more about your involvement. How many names do you know? How much about the operation can you tell me about?"_

"_I know four names, but it wouldn't do you much to know them. Two were the ones I originally spoke with on the subject- they recruited me and advised me to remain in Starfleet. They were also my contacts during the past few years while I was on my ship."_

"_And the other two?"_

"_Two operatives who had been assigned to my ship. I wouldn't know what happened to them. Likely died."_

_Hilger bowed his head once again in response, but it was a slowly nod, more thoughtful and believing. "You could have simply escaped back to Federation territory. Instead, you surrendered to Alliance patrols. Why?"_

"_Well… two reasons really. One: it's the only way into Alliance territory. I could never have gotten here through traditional channels." Hilger titled his head at the way the Lieutenant had stressed the word 'traditional'. "Second: I have something important to tell you."_

"Captain Cregg's quarters and office has been searched and an official investigation has stripped her from her command and position of Captain…"

Riker shifted in the chair before conceding to defeat and standing. "Computer, end official log. Copy it and continue as a personal log." The computer chirped in response and Riker waited a short pause before continuing.

"Captain- well, Olivia Cregg and I have probably never seen eye to eye, not since the day we meet back in the Academy… or rather, a couple of months after that. But, either way, that's not really important.

"Official investigation has turned up a sufficient amount of evidence to convince me of the veracity of Lieutenant Lloyd's claims. I know her well enough to say that she probably did it. She's in most everything for herself. And with such disrespect for authority as she has had in the past, the trait has caused… it's not a good trait to mix in."

"_A spy?"_

"_Yes, sir. From what I've heard, her information has led to several major engagements over the past years. Probably why you guys are loosing so bad."_

_Hilger, who at some point had rested his elbows on the table and leaned forward in interest at the Lieutenant's words, leaned back until his back touched the chair. Exasperated conveyed itself in the form of a hushed sigh. "Could you elaborate?"_

"_Dekari, Trill, the attack on Betazed… and that planet, are the ones I know."_

"'_That planet'?" His tone was mocking; his brow was arched with scepticism. _

"_Um… actually I don't think anyone knows what they're called. The… your newest allies."_

"_The Yenyarians, from Yenyae."_

"_Yeah, them, I guess. The Mikolian attacked their planet? That was because of her. No one in the Federation had ever heard of them until then." The Lieutenant shrugged. "She must have known about it."_

Riker sighed, rubbing his face with tired hands. "We've employed people to spy for us within the Federation's government and Starfleet. We've converted prisoners into agents of the Alliance… but I can't honestly say that I've ever suspected a person of treason. Never… And I can't say I'm surprised that it's her…

"Computer, end log."

/-/-/-/

/- _**Around the Same Time**_

Back at his home, before they had been sent away and before the Federation had taken over the station, he had never noticed how things were. He had known about the war, about the battles, about the danger, and he had known what roles his parents and their friends played in it all. But, despite that knowledge, he hadn't truly known, he hadn't truly comprehended it all.

But as JJ stepped off the transport shuttle and his feet slowly led him into the Promenade, he had truly begun to realize just how much he had grown since he had left.

Before, there was just the station and everything within it. His mind either didn't care or didn't know how to extend beyond his parents, his brother, his friends, and his world on the station. He had never bothered to really take in the little things. His father's blood soaked clothing; his mother's constant absences as she left onboard the _Defiant_; his father's late nights; the wreckage cluttering the stations' halls; the many times he and all the other children had been huddled into corners as a battle raged just outside.

He knew about them- they were a part of his every day life- but never once had he stopped to consider their meaning.

On Betazed, though, things were different. It was a shock for so much to change. He was ripped from his home and his parents seemed to be ripped from his life. It was about that time that he noticed that not every person lived in constant fear of attack. That debris and bulkheads and other hazards were not a natural decoration. It was the little things in his normal life that he began to question.

He wondered, near the end of his stay, what had caused him to finally see the truth he had been so blind to. He had heard from someone- who it was had left him- that with age, came wisdom. He had wondered if he had simply grown to a point where he was questioning things more intimately, more critically. But then he wondered if circumstances had forced him to grow, had forced him to expand on what he had taken as fact.

He looked up from his feet and from his musing. Dark eyes met the sight of his parents, already with Ty wrapped around their legs. They both looked worn, physically exhausted. And he wondered if it was from the past few months; he wondered if they had always looked like that, but he had just never noticed before.

He loved his home and his parents, but coming back from what he had experienced, he knew that it had changed him. He knew then that it had taken leaving his home to learn to age and to learn what was truly happening in his world.

/-/-/-/

/- _**Around the Same Time**_

"You made it… almost on time."

"Well, occasionally we manage to be punctual."

"Usually it's on accident."

Reggie looked over at her companion, Breslin. His expression was one easily recognizable- cocky smirk, titled head, gaze locked on the other woman's brown eyes- he was in lust at first sight. She rolled her eyes at him and turned her attention back to their contact. "Reggie."

"Julia…" The other woman's eyebrow lifted and she returned her attention to Breslin.

"Breslin," he said easily, "but everyone just calls me Bres."

"Well, Reggie, Bres, I assume you were sent here about the dart ships."

"Yes," Reggie responded before Bres could try to get in some horrible one liner. "Although, I admit, we weren't well briefed on the situation. We were just on the lunar colony. Manick detoured us here the day we were supposed to go home."

"Right," Julia nodded, but Reggie detected no sympathy from her. "Well, the darts-"

"Sorry? Darts?"

Julia spared Bres a look, answer curtly with, "You'll understand when you see them… Anyway, darts are old designs originally constructed by some of the first inhabitants of the Mars colony. They're purpose was to replace slower, wheel-driven vehicles with more effective and faster transports. They were actually used quite frequently until about thirty years ago. Even then, most weren't destroyed but instead put in storage. We were able to get a hold of a dozen or so three years ago and a handful more since. Normally we use them to get from site to site. But, recently, we've been working on upgrading a couple."

Reggie nodded, attempting to keep up with what was mostly new information. "What kind of upgrades?"

"We stole some shield generators about two years ago, but until now we haven't been able to convert them properly. They now form a strong, stable field around the darts. We've also managed to install phasers. They're not strong yet, but they'll still do some damage."

"How fast are these things?"

"They can hit maximum impulse. They weren't designed for warp, if that's what you're wondering."

"No. We'll just be using these things locally- so it doesn't matter."

"Right through here."

Reggie looked over at Bres. He gave her a half cocked grin, thrusting his arm out, gesturing for her to go first. She rolled her eyes, unconvinced by his chivalry. Once she sneaked into the room, she looked over her shoulder, waiting for the others to come through. Julia came first; Bres followed a second later. His eyes met hers briefly before moving on. She couldn't help but watch his face, entranced for a moment by the way his dark eyes darted back and forth. Finally she turned around, wanting to see what he was looking at.

They were long, pointed things. They were short, though, low to the ground. Skinny too. Their butts were perhaps two or three meters long, but the sides gradually came to a pointed nose six meters away. After that, she started to notice other details. The hatch moulded well into the design- it too was long and skinny- but it was still obviously a part of an old design and Reggie guessed that it was probably a manually controlled mechanism.

"They're ugly." Reggie looked sharply at Bres, but he just shrugged at her. He was blunt and audacious, a trait that often made him an ally but also an annoyance.

"They might be ugly," Julia countered, stepping farther into the room, "but they'll get the job done."

Sending one final glare at Bres, Reggie followed Julia into the room. "What about pilots?"

Julia turned to look at her, nodding as she did. "We have several former academy students who were trained as pilots. Some of the original Sklig Ntsar members were the first to learn to pilot these things- they've trained our pilots to fly these."

"So you've got trained fighter pilots trained to operate these things?" Julia simply nodded. "Raz."

Reggie looked away from Julia for a moment, regarding the ships instead. A couple engineers were running between some of the far ships. Finally she asked, "When can we use them?"

Julia took no time to ponder her response. Her eyes moved to catch Reggie's. "When do you need them?"

/-/-/-/

/- _**Around the Same Time**_

"_Deanna? It's late; why are you out here?"_

Her shoulders rose and fell in a languid gesture, one accompanied by the faint rise and fall of her chest as she forced herself to breath. Her arms tightened their hold on her legs; she clung to them as if a life line to the conscious world.

Lwaxana sighed as she watched her daughter drew her knees up to her chest and rested her chin against them. Her face was paler; her eyes were emptier. Lwaxana didn't need to be a telepath to see the worry that radiated off her daughter.

"_I wish I was up there."_

Lwaxana fight the urge to sigh as she glanced up at the starry sky above her. Her gaze dropped to find Deanna leaning heavily onto the armrest. _"Fighting on a starship? You want to go up there and kill yourself?"_

"_I want to know what's going on."_

"_You and your children are better off having you here."_

Deanna looked up at her, for the first time acknowledging that she was standing only a few feet from her and not in some distant room offering nothing further than a few words of comfort. Slowly, Deanna nodded. "I know… but I miss him. I'm worried about him."

Lwaxana sighed as she heard her daughter's words reach her ears. She would never understand why Deanna found it more comforting to verbalize her thoughts. But she had long ago learned to latch onto whatever comfort she could give. "Sometimes hearing nothing is better than hearing something."

"Comforting."

Lwaxana could only smile for a moment. She nodded then and patted Deanna's foot as she took a seat on the other end of the garden bench. "I found it to be quite comforting all those years ago." Deanna caught her mother's eye but Lwaxana turned away too quickly for her to completely comprehend what she was feeling play through her mother's heart.

Her father used to tell her that, whenever she missed him, she could look to the stars and see him. And she had. Every night when he was out on a mission, she would sit out on that very bench and look up at the stars, wishing that he would come back home to her. Sitting there that night, she found herself looking up at the same stars wishing the same thing- that Will would come back to her safely. She still remembered the day her wish had failed her; the day her mother had told her that her father would never be coming back to her. She still remembered how she had forsaken her favourite spot and how she had stopped believing in the power of love.

Deanna looked at her mother then. She still remembered how hard it had been to look upon her mother for those days. How painful and how strong and how melancholy her feelings were; how, by simply being in her presence, she could feel the heavy weight of loss and anger and sorrow wash over her. She knew- in a childish context- just how hard her father's death had been on her mother.

She looked back up to her stars. She wished as hard as she could that Will would come back to her. She let go of the disappointment from her youth and the loss of trust she had in wishes; she needed to believe that it would work if only because she couldn't imagine what would happen to her if she got the same message that her mother had gotten so many years ago. She couldn't imagine how losing her Imzadi would crush her faith in love forever.

/-/-/-/

/- _**The Next Day**_

A light mist had begun to fall, making its way through the dense forest and condensing on their faces. A breeze was forcing its way through the leaves, playing with the sweat and water on their faces, chilling their warmed bodies. Their legs lifted and fell, their eyes constantly searching the ground to keep from falling. As Captain Griffin walked, he took note of the path they were on, how generations of creatures had run through and worn the dirt and plants down to a distinguishable route. It was then that he noted a greenness to the trees, a blush that was accented by the lushness of the surrounding shrubbery. Their thinness and health, compounded again by the surrounding plants, all thoughtfully concealed their ancient roots. Above him, the branches had grown out, shooting out at odd and random angles. Large leaves, looking awkward on such gangly trees, formed small pockets of shade. And where there was no natural protection from the sun, he noted the proof of civilization. Long pieces of grass had been weaved delicately together and vines had been carefully attached to the nets to be able to tie them to the tree.

It seemed like such odd things to notice then. As he marched through in his Alliance Fleet uniform, a phaser rifle strapped around his neck, death looming on the horizon, as he led his men into battle. Already a stalemate had been concluded in space. The two fleets were still, a tense silence was growing in the middle. And he, along with hundreds of others, had been secretly beamed down to the surface. To win the planet, was to win its space. And they had no intentions of losing.

/-/-

Griffin couldn't help but think that everything they were doing went against nature's design. It had so laboriously crafted its sculpture. Lush, fertile greens- the beauty of its serine backdrop.

Nature had made beauty to be revered, to be enjoyed. It never made anything to be used the way they were using it. It was never meant to be splattered with blood. It was never meant to be scared by death. And never had nature intended for her creations to be used as shields from death.

/-/-

There is something to be said about a person's acceptance of death. There comes a point when they've seen so much, lived through so much, that all they can believe is that their time will come when it's time and no sooner. And, at some point, they become comfortable, they become accepting of such a horrendous life.

Griffin stood, gazing out over the water front. They held the edge of the city- the water front and the beach, but it offered little cover from the enemy. Portable shields protected those in the ships and those in shelters closer to the water, but they did nothing for those unlucky enough to be stationed in dug out shelters at the edge of our control. Griffin watched from the safety of the shields; he couldn't help but notice a young soldier up there. With his phaser rifle in arms reach, he was sprawled out along a large pile of drift wood. He was protected from the enemy's sight, but still, without any protection, he slept soundly as if safe at home.

Such acceptance, to Griffin, was both intimately known and yet infinitely mysterious. He stood, defiantly staring death in the eye, knowing that his time would come eventually, but he couldn't comprehend living so securely in that notion. He couldn't comprehend how one could so casually ignore the dangers.

A thought came to him. The day before, he had seen a man praying. It was an odd notion, an odd thing to stick out so boldly from just another day that blurred into the rest. But, it had been a very long time since he had seen that.

Religion existed in many forms- in the form of the growing atheistic population, in the many sects of still thriving Human religions, in the rituals and superstitions of many races, and in the Gods that were privately worshipped by trillions. But they were that: private. Temples, churches, and the various other words for places of worship still existed in their varying forms of grandeur. But it was no longer a source of open debate, no longer a rallying force, no longer a defining aspect of a person's life.

But war, death… Griffin sighed, shaking his head. It all brought out an aspect of people not often seen just ten years before. They were scared and all they could hope for was life after that one. In a place where peace still reigns and hope is eternal. They all had watched so many relationships crumble at the hands of the enemy and they all pray that their soul made it to some place where they will find them later. They all pray to whatever deity they worship that their deaths will be swift and painless for they no longer believe that it was worthwhile to pray for life.

The day before, Griffin saw a man on his knees, his head titled down, with tears streaming down his cheeks. And in a language he had never heard before, the man prayed. Whether for his life or his friend's soul or whether he was cursing his gods, Griffin would never know. But he prayed, as soldiers fell around him and the sounds of war pierced his ears, he prayed.

/-/-

There was once a time that it didn't look like that. Griffin looked out over the valley- his forces had pushed the Federation forces back but into their stronghold. He imagined that once it was lush green with wildflowers decorating the landscape. That once it was flat, unmarked land. And, when children still populated the neighbouring cities, they had roamed the land, their laughter floating through the air.

It too was never meant to be scarred the way it had been. Its beauty was pox marked by burn marks and trenches. Its peacefulness was destroyed by the littering of bodies.

He looked out on his men as they fought. The Federation held the strong positions- they held the manmade trenches and dirt mounds that protected them. But his men, his men performed a horrifying act because there was no other safety to be found. They laid down behind their fallen comrades and propped up their bodies, letting the dead absorb the phaser bursts.

He watched as nature's beauty slowly disintegrated even more.

/-/-/-/

/- _**April, Two Days Later**_

He still smiled, he still laughed. He still told jokes and knocked back synthetic alcohol. He still talked and even found that he could still play the trombone. He still did everything that was expected of him. But that was all because he had learned how to pretend, how to act like nothing had changed even as everything was morphing all around him. Sometimes he wondered how many others had learned to pretend as well.

But he could only pretend for so long and there came a point when he needed to escape, where he needed to be able to feel miserable and tired and empty.

He was truly proud of his people, of their latest accomplishment. He was. And he was more than happy to give them their night of celebration, but he had long passed the time that he could be a part of it. Slowly, he stalked the corridors, clearing his mind of the ale.

The retake of Bajor and Deep Space Nine had perhaps been one of the greatest boosts in moral since the early years of the war. But, after last night, it skyrocketed once again with their victory at Dekari. The loss of the two worlds had been two of the most devastating losses of the war.

More ships would be arriving soon to replenish the damages of the last offensive. The Gamma fleet would be left in charge of the boarders and the Beta fleet would split off to focus its efforts on Talos where there was less Federation presence. The Alpha fleet and some of the Delta fleet would head for Galios and recapture a planet that hadn't been in Alliance control in over a year.

It seemed like it would work. Much of their main fleet in the area had been destroyed, damaged, or captured. They had drawn most of their reinforcements from Talos and had yet to replenish its forces, allowing the rested Beta fleet a good chance at taking the area.

Galios, however, had been where all the Federation forces had retreated to. Their only saving grace was the fact that most of those crews were tired and their ships damaged from the last two attacks. The Alpha fleet was tired and damaged as well, but critically damaged ships were remaining behind, being replaced by ships pulled from Delta fleet.

On paper and in his mind and in practical reasons, it should work, but he couldn't push past the creeping thought that something would fail horribly. That something would go wrong, as it seemed things always did.

/-/-/

_**Separate Chapters**_

/-/-/-

/- _**A Week Later**_

There was something about the silence. Something about the boredom and the free time. He spent it mindlessly organizing- reorganizing really. Before they had left, his nurses had made sure everything was in its place. He had made sure that nothing was missing during the first hour of waiting- waiting to leave. Waiting out the boredom; waiting out the anxiety and dread of the looming orders. He had made sure that he hadn't missed anything during the first two hours of the journey. With an hour left and the mess hall empty, he found he could do nothing else to escape it all.

/-/-

His uniform reeked of it. The way it was crisp and new, freshly replicated.

His demeanour proved it. The way he stood at crisp attention, the way he stood hands folded behind his back, legs just apart as if straddling some invisible line.

It was in the way he spoke so smoothly, smartly, a confidence that radiated off him at first.

Miles wasn't surprised at the way he flinched, the way his voice cracked, the bravado falling away at the first sign of attack.

What staggered Miles was his own reaction. Watching him, watching the way war had already begun to change him, the way his face became an ashen grey to match the smoke-filled background, hefelt a thawing in him. It was a numb ache buried deep within him, a place forgotten as the years caught up to him and the demands of war dulled any feeling beyond exhaustion.

/-/-

It started like a light pressure in his chest. But, as always, it slowly grew, becoming a twisting pain, morphing from an annoyance to a something he could no longer ignore.

Commander Byron clutched onto the back of the ops officer's chair, steadying himself against the onslaught of Federation phasers. Their shields were failing- a finely honed sense had told him that. So soon into the battle, it was already turning away from their favour.

Glancing over at Admiral Riker, he could feel the pain growing again. It baffled Byron how during a battle he could close everything out, ignore every dying soul, every scared young officer, every final thought, every final scream of emotion, but never could he fully block out Riker's emotions.

Anger was dripping off him. Not at the Federation, but at himself for leading them into the slaughter. For not having the Beta fleet with them. For planning the battle.

Riker's focus was fading quickly. Byron knew that he was too angry to be involved with matters of war. He couldn't think and because of that, they were losing.

The pain in his chest suddenly evaporated, loosening and transforming into something new altogether. Staring out at the _Mercury_, he couldn't analyze it properly. It was familiar, utterly too familiar, but he couldn't quite place the feeling. The compulsion to turn overcame him. His head whipped to the side and he found what he was intended to find. Riker had noticed the bulkhead loosening from the onslaught. Another photon torpedo rocked the ship, the vibrations rattled the entirety of the bridge, the bulkhead creaked, and without thought Byron was moving. He felt his hands grab something; he felt his body falling; he felt something hit his leg; he felt his head crash into the ground.

For a long time, he didn't dare move. His eyes were unfocused. He blinked a few times, raising his head. That was when he remembered something hitting his leg. He looked down, waiting for the sight to clear. Jagged metal stuck out near his ankle. All he could do was cringe at the sight of it. He didn't feel the pain yet, he was brave enough not to cry or yell in pain. The voice was unintelligible, but he understood as he felt the familiar pull of the transporter.

/-/-

The battle- the war had never seemed to be in their favour. But at least there had been a point when he felt like they had a chance. That at one point it was truly his war. It had. He had been there during its conception; he had been a part of the war when it was still battles he was familiar with, weapons that he understood, tactics that he could appreciate.

Captain Jayton had to sigh. He felt old. He was old. It was no longer a time for old men- it was a young man's fight. It was a war where young men and women died as old men and women sat behind desks and remembered better times.

It was a war for the children- the victor would shape the galaxy. It was their war; he had outlived his time. Most days he felt as if he was just waiting for his death because he knew of no other way out of it.

/-/-

All he could do was remain still as he waited. Waited to die… waited to be found… He didn't really care.

His lungs pushed warm air past dried lips; his eyelids fell closed on dry eyes. He no longer cared what happened to him. He had lived his three years in that god forsaken war. It sounded strange to think, but that had become an accomplishment.

Six years ago he had joined the Academy, and with his graduating class, the last of his so called generation left into war.

He had observed in his years there that two distinct perspectives between young men and women of nearly the same age had developed. There were his peers, and there were the younger students.

There was once a time when children grew up wishing to become explorers. They went off seeking the thrill of adventure. They begged to run off and learn about science, about the stars, and they dreamt of traveling to distant worlds. They sought adventure in the form of exploration; in the form of study; in the form of new cultures.

When, he wondered, had children stopped thinking of such things as adventures and saw only blood, battle, and the pounding of adrenaline coursing through their body on some battle scared planet the only adventure that awaits them?

No one begged to go off any longer. They simply went because it seemed that there was no other option. They went off to learn medicine, to learn to be an engineer, to learn to lead. But not for the reasons they once did. They went to learn to heal the wounded and send them back to fight. They went to learn to heal the ships and send them back into the fray. They went to learn to heal the souls and send them to their fate.

He had noticed a rift between his block he had once called his generation. People just a year under him at the Academy had such a different view on war.

His generation recalled a time when war was an unknown concept. When battle was a terrifyingly unknown thing. And when the Academy was an education beyond war- when it was respected and competitive.

And the other couldn't recall that same time. All they could recall was war for they had all learned what battle was at an early age.

The one longed to return to their memories and the other mindlessly- proudly marched forward into the abyss that neither knew.

/-/-

It all seemed so arbitrary. It starts and then it ends; you win or you lose. It sometimes seemed so staged, planned in the beginning by some unnameable, unseeable, unpredictable force. It just is, or it isn't.

They began it; to some extend it was in their control. But from that moment on, it took over- it controlled every moment, every movement, every defining moment. And, in the end, it chose the victor. It never seemed to be won by the strongest, by the one who lost the most, by the one who deserved it the most. Sometimes it chose that way; sometimes the odds were turned and it played by its own rules.

Their deaths totalled the highest ever for a single engagement during the entire war. They had fought their hearts out. They had killed and died for the hope that it would pick them. But so had their adversaries.

Three hours had passed, over eight thousand had died, and finally it chose the battle to be over. It decided that their adversaries were to be banished and them to be the victors. But it no longer left behind a triumphant air within those it declared desirable. And as it drifted back into its dark abyss, it left in its wake a gloom and, with that gloom, an incurable heartache.

/-/-/-/

/- _**The Same Day**_

It was a remarkable feeling stepping back into her old self- a person who had long ago been forgotten. A partier, a drinker, a dancer, a gambler. They were all traits acquired before her arrival on DS9 and all traits that had slowly vanished as war settled in and motherhood took over.

She let the music flow through her body, and, for a time, she allowed the responsibilities of command and motherhood be washed away with a few gulps of some unknown substance.

It had been a tradition in the beginning of the war- a ceremonial opening of Bajoran wine by the Captain. It had once boosted morale, but there had come a point when morale had sunk so deep that nothing could raise it from the dark pit it had found. Jadzia knew that Kira herself was lying in the pit, unsure of herself or how to climb from it. Jadzia knew that that was why, so many years ago, Kira had rejected the bottle Jadzia had offered and why, after that day, the _Defiant_ was never stocked with ale of any sorts. Kira hadn't wanted the tradition to be restarted, but Jadzia had insisted. She had paid with her own money to get Bajoran wine into the _Defiant_'s cupboards and had spent hours nagging her friend to agree to open the first bottle. Her agreement was reluctant, but the performance itself was even colder.

Kira had lived through many things in her life, Jadzia knew that. But she also knew that Kira had learned to smile through it all. She had perfected her masquerade, but never before had a performance been so gracefully unknown. Kira's eyes seemed to laugh in victory and her smile seemed bright enough to match. She even laughed as she toasted to their health and to their victory. She thanked her crew with deepest sincerity. But, despite the act, Jadzia knew she had spoken only for the benefit of her crew. That she was sincere in her words of gratitude and praise, but that her true motive for being up there was not for the reasons they had once been many years ago.

Kira finished with a bow of her head and a whispered prayer. When she looked back out at the crowd, she didn't smile or even look at any of them. She simply sipped at the wine and walked back into the crowd, blending and mixing with them until she found Jadzia sitting in the corner.

Jadzia had to smirk at Kira; the Bajoran had no finesse when it came to drinking. She swirled the wine in her glass and swallowed it all at once leaving no time for the taste to quench the palate. "I have participated in our traditional ceremonial celebration and proposed a toast to our amazingly fantastic luck…" Jadzia tilted her head to the side, an eyebrow rising at Kira's blatant mocking of their earlier conversation. Her glass clattered against the table as she set it down. "I am going to bed now."

"Fine," she sassed back, "Miss out on all the fun."

"Jadzia," there was something about the way she shook her head; exhaustion dripped off her tongue. Or maybe it was the way that no emotion was forced into her voice like Jadzia had come to accept and even expect. "As it is, I dread waking up tomorrow and cleaning this mess I call my ship. As much fun as I'm sure this party shall be, I want to go to sleep."

Jadzia shook her head; one had rose as the other continued to awkwardly hold the glass. "Clean up? You're not even going to afford us one day of relaxation before you start assigning repair crews?"

"No."

"Kira…"

"We won today, Jadzia, we did well. But tomorrow?" She shook her head slowly, "How do we know they're not licking their wounds right now and preparing for their next offensive?"

"Kira-"

"They caught us off guard once, it's not going to happen again." She didn't understand her friend at first, but slowly the realization took hold. Kira had never admitted to the guilt she had felt or the blame she had hoisted onto her shoulders for the loss of their station, but Jadzia had seen the guilt leak through at time. It was in the way she did many things, but mostly in how she could no longer look Captain Sisko in the eye or the way she avoided Julian if at all possible.

"Kira-"

"What?"

Jadzia sighed, one hand rubbing at her own weary eyes. "Go to bed. I'll calm the party down in an hour and we'll do the same." Kira hesitated, but Jadzia raised her hand, continuing with, "They deserve a break but I'll get them to sleep. We'll work out repair crews in the morning."

"Thank-you."

Jadzia nodded, running her hand down Kira's arm as she turned away. Jadzia watched her friend stumble through the Mess, her weariness steering her uncertainly through the mass of her crew, until her form was obscured by the closing door. She turned back to the party, forcing a smile at some Ensigns. Her glass rose to her lips but she hesitated before gulping the last of her drink. After a moment, she relented and, shutting her eyes, she squinted her face as she forced it down.

/-/-/-/

/- _**At The Same Time**_

Riker had found that there were many bad jobs that came with being an Admiral. Paperwork was near the top. Ordering men into battle was certainly tied, if not worse. But, the job he despised the most, was more of a self-imposed tradition.

He paced slowly down the aisles, offering a hand, occasionally an ear, and sometimes a prayer- ones he had learned specifically for that duty. He smiled for them, patting their foot or taking their hand. Occasionally an _Enterprise_ crewmember would catch his eye and he would offer a more personal moment. Sometimes he would ask a doctor about the worst cases.

But that day, he jumped from bed to bed until he found a specific name. Ensign Thomas MacNamer, junior engineer onboard the _Warbird_. Captain Ivinch had told him about the young man. She'd mentioned his name earlier in passing- saying he showed a lot of potential and promotion might not be far in his future. Just hours before, when they had spoken briefly after their Captains' meeting, she'd told him the danger her ship had been in and the young Ensign's role in the entire ordeal.

Riker stopped just short of the bed, preparing him for what he was seeing. The young man's face was coated heavily in green protection gel; his hands too were coated in the gel and wrapped with protective sheets. A white blanket was wrapped around his body, hiding the rest of his burnt body.

"Admiral?"

Riker smiled at him, hiding the pity he felt. "Thomas. Or do you prefer Tom?"

"Tom, sir."

"How'er you feeling?" Tom tried to shrug, but Riker could see how badly he flinched at the action, that causing him pain as well. "I heard what you did. Truly remarkable."

"No it wasn't, sir."

"You walked into a radiated room and stayed in there even when everyone else left. You saved your ship. You saved your crew." He looked like he wanted to shrug again, but thought better of it. Tom's mouth fell open to contest what he had said, but then he closed it. "You were quite the hero today."

"I just followed orders, sir."

"You did a fine job, Tom. We're all proud of you. Get some rest, now." The Ensign just nodded, letting his eyes droop closed. Riker took a few steps away; when he turned, he found the doctor watching him, sad eyes pitying the young engineer. "Is there any chance for him?"

The doctor shook his head. "I'm afraid that plasma radiation is still mostly untreatable. The burns we can heal. But… he's too sick."

"He shouldn't… after what he did…"

"It's true then? He stayed an extra five minutes in a catwalk flooded with plasma to save the ship?" Riker just nodded. "I assume it worked then."

"The ship survived, yes."

"I couldn't have done it… at least not when I know how I would die."

Riker looked back at the boy. "I would prefer if you didn't share."

"I won't."

"You'll move him somewhere more private?"

"Yes, sir. This evening."

"Good… good. Thank-you…" And with that, he slipped away, deciding that his second hated duty was over, and third hated duty was beckoning.

/-/-/-/

/- _**October, Six Months Later**_

"Vulcan's supplies of Tritonion ore are diminishing-"

"Mining companies must be set up. We need to revive the economy on the planet."

"We must revive all the economies."

"Obviously. Why else would we be having this conversation?"

"Travel is still dangerous in those regions."

"Refugees still want passage back home."

"Transports aren't going there yet."

"They're still petitioning for passports, tickets… The planets they're living on can't feed and house them for much longer."

"The safety of the Dekari and Bajoran sectors is still our main concern."

She was hearing, and yet not hearing. Phrases blurred together; she was certain that she had ignored sentences. She wondered if maybe time had skipped at points, blurring together to confuse topics.

Lwaxana looked up at them, blinking away the glassiness that had formed over her eyes. "I think… a short break would be in order now."

Four voices stopped abruptly; four heads turned; four sets of eyes cast their confused gaze onto her. Lwaxana just pushed back away from the table, using the armrests to hoist herself back onto her feet. She didn't care to wait for their agreement or for them to follow. Her feet went on their own, leading her off to the balcony where she was sure to find a cool breeze to wake her exhausted body.

"How are the children?"

Lwaxana looked to her, but the action was jittery as if she had been startled into looking. "Hmm? Oh… They're… children." Pell smiled with her and nodded. "They're both getting so big. Liz is… now fully in her rebellious teenage stage- I don't remember Deanna being half as bad… Oh well, maybe it's just me getting old."

Pell laughed, shaking her head. "Well-"

"Don't you even comment," she said with a smirk. "And of course Chamberlain is fast approaching his tenth birthday. And he takes every opportunity to remind people of that."

"Well of course. It's a pretty big age."

"Oh true, but I don't think it's just that. He has always been disappointed that his telepathic abilities don't match his sisters- they honestly don't even compare. But right around ten is when most Betazoids really begin to develop whatever talent they may have."

Pell just nodded, letting the silence fall over them. And, for a short time, neither did anything to disturb it.

"There's a young Trill girl living with us now." Pell looked up; Lwaxana was looking out over the gardens. "She's twelve, thirteen maybe… oh, I can't keep up any longer…" Her head shook gently as her eyes found the far railing. "I really think that it's a wonderful program- I couldn't imagine not trying to help these children- but it's… it's hard enough with everything… You get so attached to them; they become such a close part of the family… and then one day they just leave. Most of the time, there's very little warning… and sometimes… sometimes you toss and turn at night wondering what became of them… and sometimes you stare up at the ceiling because you know… you know that you'll…"

Pell just looked into her friend's eyes. The pained under tone startled her. Vaguely she recalled a young man who had stayed with them two years ago. A Vigolian, if she recalled correctly. He had left when he joined the Academy. She remembered how upset and how proud Lwaxana had been off him. But she had never heard anymore after that.

"The Alliance Fleet High Council's meeting right now."

"Hmm?" Lwaxana seemed lost in her own thoughts when Pell looked back to her. Her statement was random and Pell wondered what thoughts had been going through her mind before she had spoken. "Oh… yeah, I suppose they are."

"I've heard Will mentioning Cardassia."

"You think they'll actually attack so soon?"

Lwaxana just shrugged. "It's a possibility… If they still feel desperate enough, they might."

"I guess," Pell sighed, moistening her lips as she thought. "I'm glad for what we accomplished there… but I… I just wish that they would get Trill back."

"I know, Pell. Soon."

"Yeah… Soon."

/-/-/-/

/- _**Around the Same Time **_

Riker sighed, his eyes focused on the centre of the table. Three Ma'lons stood taller than the rest, their orange leafs brightened the arrangement of flowers. Lin'yas brought balance with their pale yellow petals; pale blue Grindals, light purple Pe'yet'as, and soft pink Hem'lik added to the effect.

Looking away, he could see the majority of High Command massing over in the far corner, away from his spot with his back again the windows. If it were a normal day, Keshna and Data and possibly Hilger, Vo'lan, and Vasilii would be near to where he was, talking loudly and merrily about whatever they were in mood for. He would often join them. Diego and Du'art changed with each day, but they would drift between the group, themselves, being late or unnecessarily early. Jackson never failed to walk in late- he was, however, early by his standards and was already hovering by his seat waiting for the rest to follow. And Griffin… he always appeared late and it wasn't surprising for him to disappear at points throughout the meeting.

But it wasn't a normal day. Somehow the mere presence of Jackson so early, demanding silently- and ineffectively- for everyone to sit, was enough to set it off. Keshna and Data were chatting in whispers, but it was so out of character for the Trill to not be alive with a new joke or at least a smile for Riker. And Du'art, as a Bolian, always had life to him, whether it be a hardy laugh or a gruffy outlook on the day, he was always somewhat entertaining to be around.

When he had lived on Betazed decades ago, Lwaxana had demanded- not through tutoring but through mocking him with her knowledge of Betazoid plants- that he know about Betazoid flowers. He knew their importance to the Betazoid culture, but the beauty of life didn't seem at all appropriate in a world of meaningless death. He sighed, though he wasn't able to tear his eyes away.

There was a certain unfamiliar stillness that had swallowed the room. Riker found it hard to stand there without feeling it strangle him. Something, however, startled it, making it loosen its grip for just a moment. He looked up. Griffin had just made his appearance. Riker looked back down; he didn't know what to say to the Captain.

Nine months ago, before his plan had been conceived, Griffin had ten thousand men under his command. And to Dekari, he had brought exactly eight hundred and seventy two. Just yesterday, in the first reports Riker had seen, only three hundred and eight remained there. Over five hundred had been sent home… only one hundred of them were still alive.

With Griffin's arrival, the other's felt compelled to sink down into their chairs; Griffin remained standing off in the corner. He didn't want to move, he didn't want to go over there and talk to Griffin. He wanted to sink down into his chair, he wanted to get the meeting over and return to his ship. But, somehow, for whatever reason, his body lead him there.

He had nothing to say. And so he just stood there for a moment, hoping that maybe he would find the courage to walk away, hoping that he could find the words within him to erase his guilt. But he could find neither and his eloquence died to the simplistic expression of pity. "I'm sorry about…"

Captain Griffin just looked up at him. "They died honourably… They died well…" It was an old Klingon saying, but despite the show of strength, Riker heard the quiet sorrow in his voice and he saw the soft pain reflected in his eyes. Riker imagined that he must look and sound the same.

"I'm sorry." Griffin just shook his head, brushing off Riker's apology. And, without another word, he took his seat. Riker just stood there for a while until the murmuring had reached an unbearable level and his stomach felt as if it might drop from his body and his head began to pound with some unknown aliment. Finally he took his place at the far end of the table.

"We can't move onto Cardassian Prime. Not until our new borders are secure."

Keshna nodded approvingly; Hilger paused long enough for her to add, "We need to give the fleet a chance to rest. We need a chance to replenish our ranks and rebuild parts of the fleet. Another major offensive so soon… we won't survive it."

"Neither will they." Keshna rolled her eyes. Riker nodded. "But Keshna's right- we need to get supplies to the front lines. Most of them are up there with major damage to non-offensive and non-defensive systems. And hundreds of other ships are hanging back outside of the Dekari system in need of major repairs. That ought to be our priority."

He thought perhaps that there was a parallel. Death and the array of Betazoid flowers. Death and beauty had its place in life. Without one, the other lost its meaning. Riker rubbed at his eyes, looking away from the vase. It was useless; a pointless trifle. There was so much else to be accomplished.

/-/-/-/


	40. Year 14: 2385, continued again

/-/-/-/

/- _**Around the Same Time**_

He had a distinct sounding footstep; heavy and yet soft, confident and yet humbled. Her stylus curved into a final word, anticipating his words. She turned just as Data paused before her. "How is he doing?"

She sighed. Her neck turned, allowing her eyes to fall on the far bed. She nodded, slowly looking back to her captain. "Better. Still a little shaky."

"Knowing him, he has been annoying you since he arrived."

She couldn't help but laugh. His voice still held a monotone edge to it, but it had grown more expressive since they had first meet. A smile faintly remained on her lips; his laugh itself delighted her. She couldn't quite describe it. It was natural, kind, hearty, and yet at the same time it was forced and somewhat mechanical. "I can't wait to kick him out of here."

She smirked at Data's chuckle. For someone who hadn't quite mastered laughing, she was surprised that he did indeed have several different laughs. "Is he ready for visitors?"

Harper's shoulder rose awkwardly; she shifted against the table, wishing she didn't have to think about his condition. She tried to form her lips into a tight smile. "If he's awake, he'll take any distraction he can get." His head bowed stiffly. She was still amazed at how much he had learned to emulate human behaviour; and yet, at the same time, he hadn't quite mastered the subtlest of them. "He's over here." Harper pushed off the table and took the leading steps to take him back to the Commander.

Maitland looked up; she imagined that he heard their footsteps. There wasn't much to occupy her mind; she knew him and she knew that he thought too much. He was waiting for any insignificant thing to preoccupy his mind that he had probably been waiting for them since Data had entered the room. That goofy smile was flashy over his face; awkward and cocky. "Captain! Good to see a familiar face. Locked up back here-"

"Oh shut up." He flashed a smile at her; she smirked back. There wasn't a reason to look away from his brown eyes, but she found herself blushing at Data's knowing smile. It was just another aspect of his assimilated behaviour.

"How are you feeling, Commander?"

"Eh…" She looked back to Maitland as he shrugged in answer. "Not bad. A little nauseous. I've told my doctor that, but she insists that I'm lying."

"I never said that you were lying… just being a baby." He rolled his eyes at her; she resisted sticking her tongue out at him in response. "If it's really bothering you, I'll get you something."

"No… I'd hate to be baby about it."

She sighed, but made a note to bring him something once Data had left, she knew in private would be the only way to get him to accept the medicine. Turning to Data, she donned on a smile, "This is what I put up with."

Data shook his head. Her first impression of him would suggest that he wouldn't even bother shaking his head to show a negative opinion, but that changed quickly. "Naw… I'll live, Captain. I'll be back on the bridge before long."

She could feel his eyes turning to her; she could feel his eyes asking the silent question. She looked to him; it surprised her sometimes that his eyes could convey thoughts and emotions. "I hate to say it, but he'll be ready for duty in three or four days."

"I thought you wanted to get rid of him." She laughed; she couldn't bear to think about what she meant by that.

Data nodded; he seemed to understand her meaning. "I'm glad you are well. I shall let you rest."

"Thanks for the visit, Captain. I'll see you later."

"In a few days." He nodded to the both of them, then turned slowly away. She watched him walk for a moment; he hadn't lost the mechanical movements she imagined that he had inherited with his activation.

Maitland was lying back in his bed. She knew he was tired; four days was an exaggeration of his health, but she couldn't keep him there any longer. She had always had a thing for his floppy brown hair. Half of it was gone now; she had to shave part of it to treat his wounds. He had already decided to shave the rest off later. She'd teased him, of course, but the reality was that she'd miss brushing his bangs out of his eyes. Mostly she was just certain that he'd look funny. "Dork."

He smirked at her, but she could see the energy it took. The burns weren't what hurt people- she could heal those. It was the illness that came with it; there was nothing she had for that. They got weak, nauseous, tired. Maitland got some plasma in the face; people didn't usually recover from those. He would have scars, but he would get better eventually.

"I'm just too cute and you know it."

"You wish."

/-/-/-/

/- _**Around the Same Time**_

He watched as three men crossed into the next room. He didn't bother to turn and look through the clear forcefield. They were heading for the darts in the hanger; they're tattered uniforms giving their identity away.

"Pluto?"

"Their target is a satellite orbiting Pluto. It's receives and transmits all Starfleet transmissions for Earth. Without it, Earth'll be deaf and blind for a little bit… Long enough."

"Long enough? For what?" Breslin's first words since the meeting had begun drew the attention of the two women to him. He looked up at them, letting himself catch Julia's eye.

"Something Manick has planned."

"I haven't heard anything about this." Breslin squinted his eyes at Julia, but the Martian looked away quickly. He knew that she had never intended on giving an answer.

Silence enveloped the room, broken only by the terse commands from Julia. They all watched as the hanger shield dropped, exposing the complex for a few short moments. The darts hummed as they cut through the air, speeding out into dark Mars night. Without the humming, the silence grated on his nerves, growing more awkward than he was comfortable with.

"So…" he sighed. Reggie and Julia looked to him; he found that he had no further words to say. "What got you into this?" he found himself asking, though his interest was minute at best. "The Sklig Ntsar, I mean."

Julia shrugged as she lifted herself onto the table, folding her legs underneath her. "I've lived on Mars all my life." She paused as if that was enough to say, but continued despite the obvious veracity of that. "I'm not one for stereotypes, but the one about Martians and Earth is true."

"So you hate our guts?"

"That part's wrong." Julia leaned back, finding the wall to lean again. "I have nothing against Humans. Just their government."

"You're government." Bres bit his tongue at the sharp glare that was sent his way. "Just kidding… well, let's get rid of this man and then we'll help you guys out."

"Yeah…" Bres dropped his eyes; he wasn't sure what he said to make her sound so withdrawn. She looked away. He waited a long, drawn out pause before Julia spoke again. "So… How about you guys?"

Reggie's eyes turned to find Bres's. He just shrugged and made no move to answer the question. Reggie sighed and shrugged, "Me? Um… Manick got me into the whole scheme way back in the beginning."

"How long ago was that?"

"Um… holy rez… back in '75. Ten years ago." She sighed, rubbing her eyes as she thought back. "We had something of a fling for a couple of years before that. We went to the Academy together. He dropped out in our third year and after I graduated we stopped seeing each other. Three years later, it was '75 and he got in touch with me. He got me to think about everything that was going on and I resigned my commission and joined his little conspiracy group."

"You slept with Manick?"

Reggie just laughed, shaking her head with the old memories, "I was naïve in my youth." Julia chuckled softly, but her interest seemed to wane. Breslin just rolled his eyes, an action that didn't go unnoticed by Reggie. "How about you, Breslin? You wanna share your heartfelt path to the SN?"

He gave her a crossed look before returning his attention to Julia. He leaned back, resting his body against the table. His legs stretched out before him, his right heel resting on top of his left. He shrugged his shoulders into a comfortable position; his arms folder together over his chest. "Well… fresh out of the Academy I became a, um…"

"A spy."

"I'm not a spy."

"Yes you are."

"No-"

"Whatever. She gets the idea."

"Anyway," Bres stressed, drawing the attention back to his story. "I spent a few years doing reconnaissance-" His eyes turned pointedly at Reggie, "and then wound up on a Marquis ship… which wound up in the Delta Quadrant. Long story short, we lived for seven years on a Starfleet starship and eventually made it back home. By then this whole war was well underway. I asked to be reassigned back to my old job and AF got me across the boarder, where I managed to get hooked up with the SN."

"Touching."

"I beat him up that day." Reggie beamed at him; Bres glared over her way.

"Shut up." Julia smirked but said nothing.

Static cut through the newfound silence. Julia looked to the control panel. She untwisted her legs, sliding from the table until her feet were steady under her. An ear piece was blinking on the control panel; she set it snugly into her ear. She didn't look at them as she nodded. She didn't tell them what she heard or what they reported, she simply said, "It's done."

/-/-/-/

/- _**Around the Same Time**_

He was struck by the sight when he walked in. A curl of brown hair fell away from the rest, tickling his eyelid with its constant presence. Chamberlain shook his head, but the strand didn't move. He reached up, brushing all of his bangs to the side. Will's hair had never grown as long as Chamberlain's, but he still found himself brushing away the same annoying lock.

He looked a lot older than Will remembered. The lingering signs of baby fat were all but gone and the regal Betazoid features in his blood were starting to show themselves. He was laying down, sprawled out and reclining on the couch, but despite that, Will could still tell that he had become tall and lanky. In fact, Will was sure that he had already grown out of his age of ten.

"Hey, Chamberlain."

He caught the boy by surprise. Chamberlain looked up from his book. For a moment he eyed Will; it made him uncomfortable to stand under such scrutiny from his own son. But then Chamberlain looked back down at the book in his hand, "When did you get here?"

Will shrugged, "A couple hours ago."

"Oh."

Silence draped the room again, but he noticed that Chamberlain had settled back into the rhythm he had begun sometime earlier; he didn't seem to notice the icy vibe running throughout the room.

"So what are you reading?"

"Nothing."

"For school?"

Chamberlain just shrugged.

"Kay… I'll just leave you alone then."

Chamberlain ignored his last comment. Will noticed that his eyes were still, simply focusing on the page in front of him. Will sighed, but turned from the room.

Perhaps out of a need to reassure himself, his feet led him up the stairs and halted before Liz's door. It slid open at his command and he peaked his head inside, "Hey, kiddo."

Liz beamed up at him; it was a warmer welcome at least. "Hey, dad."

"What are you doing?" She just shrugged. He shrugged back in a teasing imitation. She giggled- it was an echo of her mother's. Then she bowed her head and her dark locks fell into her eyes; she brushed them behind her ear before looking back up at him.

"Just some school stuff. You know, boring things."

The atmosphere and conversation gave him a confidence to step further inside. His feet lead him to the edge of her bed and, following an impulse he hadn't considered since she was much younger, he reached out and played with her toes. She laughed, wiggling her ticklish toes from his grasp.

"What subject?"

She shrugged, the laughter fading from her eyes. "Um… history. We've been learning about Earth."

"Ah… what specifically?"

"Um… really old stuff- you know anything about the Cold War?" He just shook his head. He hadn't really taken a pause to think about it, but the topic didn't grudge up any familiar memories.

"Hey, dad?"

"Yeah?"

"Have I ever been to Earth? Some of the kids in my class- they're my age- have gone before. But most of them don't remember."

"You guys were all young."

"Chamberlain wasn't even born."

"No… no, he wasn't. Yes, you've been there a couple of times. Maybe four or five times, but not since you were…" He sighed, thinking back to when _Shadowland _was found and Captain Picard was declared dead. They seemed like distant memories- someone else's memories. "Three, maybe."

"Oh… rad, I guess… You think we'll ever be allowed to go there again?"

Will sighed, looking away from the deep blue orbs. He couldn't help but be shocked by how old his little blue-eyed baby was becoming. She was already fifteen, a young lady. Somewhere along the line he had missed that jump from a bright-eyed toddler to a young lady.

"I hope so, little one." She wrinkled her nose at the old nickname and Will just reached for her toes again. She giggled; he could still hear the little toddler being chased by Data down the vacant halls of the rickety old station. "Well… I let you finish your work."

"Kay."

Her head was already bowed over her work by the time he stepped away from her bed. The door slid open at his presence, but he paused and for a long moment just looked back at her. He still couldn't believe that he had missed so much of his little girl's life.

He turned away just before she looked up. "Hey, dad?"

"Hmm?"

"Are you leaving soon?"

Will sighed. He wondered, too, when his two children had learned so well that whenever he came, his departure was to come soon after. "I have a High Command meeting that I have to go to. It depends on what we decide to do."

"You mean whether or not to attack Cardassia?"

A chuckle escaped him before he could stop it. It wasn't a funny topic and the way she spoke wasn't even in a mocking manner, but for whatever reason, it amused him. "Yeah."

"Do'ya think you're going to?"

Will shook his head as he walked back into her room. "Don't worry about it," he said as he leaned over her, his lips coming to rest on her forehead for a brief moment. "Don't stay up too late doing this stuff, okay?" She nodded, glancing back at her work. Will just nodded back and then, silently, retreated from the room.

Deanna found him later out on the terrace. Years ago, in a much different time, Will had taken to that as something of a hiding place. When Lwaxana became too much for him or Deanna had asked for a moment alone with the woman, he had escaped there. Deanna knew that; it was a habit that he had never broken.

He felt her kneel down beside him, brushing her bear arms against the smooth cloth of his uniform. He didn't look up, he didn't acknowledge her.

She longed to ask him, to beg him to reveal what was weighing so heavily on his mind. But she knew better, she knew not to rush him or force him. And so she just waited.

A long silence permeated through the gardens before he finally announced, "I made a promise, Deanna." She wanted to ask for more, for explanation, but she didn't. She knew better than to rush what was on his mind. "When Liz was born, I was terrified. Terrified of our little, blue-eyed sweetheart. But I promised myself that I wouldn't become my father- I wouldn't be one of those people who's always running away, running all over the quadrant for Starfleet things. I did that for a long time, and it did no good… I wanted to be a good father. I wanted to be here for her."

"Will-"

"I made the same promised when Chambe was born. I promised myself that you'd be back on _Enterprise_ before long or that I'd manage to get back to Betazed so much more. I don't know what possessed me to think that would work out."

"Will-"

"Deanna… Chamberlain will hardly speak to me. He doesn't know me, so why would he? And Liz? She smiles and talks to me, but it's the same thing. She remembers a vague clump of memories from her youth and that's all she has to hang onto… My own kids barely recognize me."

"Will, you can't blame yourself for this. It's the war; it's your job."

"I know that. You know that. Liz probably understands that now. But Chamberlain… I'm not calling him selfish, but a boy needs his father growing up. Not a couple of visits and a few half-witted stories about some starship Captain. I don't think, as hard as he might try, that he gets that."

He could feel as Deanna's fingertips stroked his brow, running down the length of his cheek. He knew that she wanted to say something to him, something to sooth his frayed soul, but also knew that she couldn't. He knew that had not said anything that she hadn't thought before.

/-/-/-/

/- _**The Next Day**_

They argued. They fought. They yelled. And finally they stormed off- fuming in their minds or in the halls. But it accomplished nothing and anyone who ever tried to tell them otherwise accomplished even less.

It was in moments like those- when Du'art and Jackson were at each others' throats again and the tension was growing unbearable thick and the topic itself made him feel the build up of bile in the back of his throat- that he just looked away and ignored everything happening.

He imagined, though he never looked, that Data himself was growing weary with their constant clashes. Captain Griffin probably had left at some point, switching back and forth between the monotony of meetings and the reality of war on Dekari. Admiral Keshna was probably stifling her yawns and he didn't doubt that she had called for her attaché to simply entertain her. Captain Diego was still too new- too green to feel comfortable stepping away from the debate. He was probably listening, though growing weary of it all in the same moment.

But Riker, his sights were solely focused on the window that looked out into A'dara- Betazoid's most beautiful providence. On board the _Enterprise_, stationed at the edge of Dekari space, it was nearing dinner time. Most of the High Command members were in a similar time zone. But on Betazed they had argued their way through the night. It was nearly dawn, but all he could see was the deep black of the sky, the looming darkness that it cast throughout the providence, masking the beauty of the tropical world.

A word caught his ear; he looked back to the table to the half focused faces. Jackson and Du'art were stilled arguing. He wondered for only a moment what they were yelling about. But the word came up again; his ears perked and immediately he knew the answer to his own question. They had moved on passed the argument over Trill and Vigo and the necessary protection of the Alliance Council planets. They had moved passed the issues that didn't yet pose a threat and to what needed to be discussed.

Riker just turned back to the window- dawn was approaching. He could tell by the way the sky had stopped looking black. It looked almost purple. A dark, gloomy purple.

No one seemed to understand what had happened. No one could tell him what had happened to make such a mess of the whole situation; and no one could tell him what had happened to correct it so suddenly. Had the tides never turned, it would have been a disaster. A bloody mess that he was to blame for. But the tides had turned and to their favour and bloody mess became known as a great and honourable sacrifice. What a fine line those young people walked upon.

He could see red peaking through near the horizon. The sun was climbing, slowly and steadily at its own pace. He just watched the soft glimmers of red overtaking the darkened sky.

Every day over the past years they had stumbled along that thin line. A toe on one side- a failure. A blood bath of mistakes and weakness. A toe to the other side- a victory. A coalition of bravery, of courage, and of just the right decision in just the right moment.

The word came back into the conversation. He didn't consciously hear it, but he knew from their mere tones that nothing had been decided. He doubted that they even knew what they were fighting for any longer.

Light was filtering through, hiding the darkness and sating a soft glow over the gardens.

Perhaps there was hope for them yet. It was a wonder to him that with a victory came the same guilt that so often accompanied a loss. If Jackson and Du'art were to ever finish their argument, he would tell them that their only hope was to push on and to free the Cardassian space, forcing the Federation back to their original borders. They wouldn't like it- none of them would- but it was the only sure way to secure their borders in that region. A sure way to secure them, but also a sure way to see hundreds lost.

/-/-/-/

/- _**A Few Days Later**_

Kira just stood there, watching the scene play out in front of her without care to interact or even be absorbed in it. There would have been a time when she would have gotten down on her hands and knees with them and cradled through the catwalks, would have sacrificed the feeling in her fingers to fix the plasma fires, and shotty circuitry, or whatever else was wrong. She used to like to sit there, learning from even a lowly ensign and help. She would clear the bridge or the corridors. Anything to help.

That was before. Before exhaustion had slipped in, twining its way from her mind to the entirety of her body. Before the cloud had enveloped her, blurring the world and blurring her senses.

She wondered if that's why she didn't see him walk in. If the edge of her once perfect vision, once amazing perception had started to wane over the past year. He startled her; it had been a long time since someone's mere presence had done something like that.

Captain Sisko stood just off in the corner of her bridge. Startled didn't require her heart to pound or her breath to catch; it was simply a thought, a moment of dulled confusion before she accepted that he had, in fact, spoken. She watched him as his eyes wandered across the bridge, taking in the damage, taking in the young people working, and letting the memories flood back.

"Captain?"

He chuckled at her. Ever since her promotion to Captain of the _Defiant_- a hectic combination with her duties as First Officer of DS9- he had insisted that she call him Ben. But he was a man she admired, a man she had served under for years. He was her people's Emissary- a religious icon and leader. He was the first non-Bajoran that she had ever trusted. Somehow she couldn't bring herself to make them equals by calling him by his first name.

He took a step forward. Perhaps she had taken too much time to consider people and body language in the past months, but as he took those first steps, she almost imagined that he was tempting the fates. That, with every cautious step, he was testing the waters that he was tiptoeing across. But she shook the thought from her mind. It had been his ship first- it had been his chair, his bridge, his command first- and she was sure that he would always feel that surge of instinct whenever he set foot in there.

"Could we talk about something?"

She glanced at the others around them. Three engineers, all of whom she was familiar with. "Of course."

He didn't say anything, but with her agreement, he tilted his head, gesturing to her mostly unused ready room. He didn't wait for her to acknowledge his inquiry, instead he instantly led her there. She followed two steps behind. Submission. He might have asked for equality, but he didn't expect her to ever accept that.

"When do you leave?"

"Three days. 0900."

He nodded. She could tell that he was working up to asking her something. His eyes swept over the room. He wondered if he was noticing how she hadn't touched the office since he left; she had never once used it.

"How do you feel about… going into Cardassia?"

Kira shrugged. "I don't really have an opinion. To be honest, I hadn't thought much about it." She was lying. But, on whatever impulse, she couldn't voice what had been on her mind for the past two weeks. It was Cardassia- the home of the monsters who had conquered and destroyed her world. But mostly she was amused by the irony.

Sisko just nodded, accepting her words. "I was wondering… It's been a long time since I've seen anything but the scarred walls of our station-"

"You want to take command of the _Defiant_?"

She considered them friends, she believed that she understood him to some extent, but she wouldn't say that she knew him as well as Jadzia did, well enough to predict his thoughts and actions. She wasn't sure what possessed her to realize that.

"Well… I would appreciate one last bout in this old girl."

"Well this old girl would certainly like to have you back."

He shook his head, but, despite that, he smirked. "Thank-you." She just nodded; she had nothing to say. "Three days. 0900?"

"Yes, sir."

"I'll be ready and waiting."

/-/-/-/

/- _**Three Days Later **_

He watched as they crept through each sector, stretching themselves to the far reaches of Alliance territory and beyond. Already he had ordered Data to stay behind in the Dekari sector, and Captain Diego had remained behind in the Bajoran sector. Now only the _Enterprise_ and the Alpha fleet dared tiptoe across an unfriendly border. Unlike so many years ago, no resistance meet them. Cardassian ships had been all but annihilated.

It didn't matter what empire one compared Cardassia too, it was relatively vast, but the heart of it- Cardassia Prime- wasn't far from Bajor. Riker counted the seconds silently; in his head he knew how long he had until he needed to breathe, until he needed to formulate words, until he ordered the initial attack. Five minutes left to go…

The air was still; it felt heavy and hard to breathe.

Four minutes.

Byron was staring at him. He could feel it. Whether it was the nerves, or the pressure, or the counting, or something all together different, Riker didn't know nor care to know, but he never looked over at his first officer. His eyes were fixated by the stretching stars; his mind was preoccupied by the numbers gradually growing smaller.

His lungs expanded and air came rushing back to his body. His muscles tightened, his hands clenched the armrest, his legs flexed, but then he relaxed, deciding against standing. His eyes darted to the side, finally meeting Byron's gaze. The Betazoid's deep eyes revealed nothing. Riker had no time to wonder at his thoughts.

"Tactical!"

/-/-

She watched; the viewscreen seemed to lurch, shaking sickeningly to the left. But she knew, somehow, that it was her ship that had moved.

The _Enterprise_ flew alongside her. A photon torpedo hit her side, spinning the fleet commander's ship into a tail spin. She watched the regal ship until she spun out of sight.

"Captain," Harry yelled over the crackling fire, "Admiral Riker is hailing."

Janeway nodded silently, turning back to the front of the ship. "Admiral?" She shook the weariness from her eyes, wiping the hair out of her eyes with the back of her hand. A dark streak was left in its wake.

"_Take a squadron. Attack their left flank."_

"Yes, sir," she nodded, motioning to Chakotay to distribute the orders.

Tom didn't need prompting to maneuver the ship safely to their intended target; Tuvok didn't need orders to charge phashers, he waited only for an order to fire them. It was a testament to how skilled her crew was; to how well attune they were to each other. She cherished their bond.

The air stilled around her, freezing her lungs in mid-breath and her eyes open and staring out at the mass of Breen vessels. "Harry, tell the squadron: Alpha-3 pattern."

"Aye, Captain."

She stumbled on his feet as Tom jerked _Voyager _to the left. The inertial dampeners had weakened and power had been diverted to other systems. Over the years, she had grown accustomed to the sharp movements and to the way it made her dizzy and sick.

For a time, she just breathed, letting her crew- the people she trusted dearer than blood- defend their ship and comrades. Tom effortlessly piloted the ship, weaving between phaser fire, debris, and enemy ships. Tuvok, having learned long ago to anticipate Tom's flamboyantmaneuvers, was using every twisting, weaving, and curving angle to his advantage.

"Tuvok," she finally found her voice; she could sense Tuvok shifting his attention from the battle to her, "aim for the lead ship. Tom, I want you to fly underneath her belly." She paced slowly as she spoke, coming to stop a few steps behind Tom. Tom just nodded. "I want to finish them off."

"Aye, Captain." Tom's fingers flew over the console, forcing _Voyager_ to dive and drop beneath the other ship, twisting as he avoided the torpedoes aimed for them. Janeway walked around the console, holding onto it when phaser fire shook their shields, rocking the entirety of the ship.

"Now Tuvok!"

Four red streaks smeared across the dark expanse and burrowed into the other ship's hull. As if glass, the hull shattered in a fiery rage, leaving behind only broken shards of its former self.

The air thickened around her once again. Her breath caught, and the air seemed too thick to restart the process. She could hear the Tom's panic in the way his fingers nervously punched in codes, desperately trying to maneuver from danger. But his efforts were in vain.

Like a thousand bricks crashing into an ocean, she could feel the waves violently forcing her backwards. Her back touched ground first. Waves of pain ran throughout the length of her spine. Then she felt her head meet the ground. Vaguely she could hear her name; the last thing she remembered was Tom spinning in his chair, desperate to know what had happened in the wake of his failure.

/-/-

"_Data?"_

"Yes, Harper?"

"_I'm bored."_

Data couldn't help but smirk. Then he nodded softly. "Enjoy it, Brooke."

"_Yeah, yeah… Do you know what's going on up there?"_

"I am not aware of the present situation… It is likely that we will be joining the battle soon." She didn't say anything further and, for a short while, the link remained open but silent. Eventually he looked away and tapped the link closed.

Commander Maitland stood soberly at his tactical station. Commander Kylah was just a step behind him.

Data watched his first officer for a moment. The Bajoran shivered. He watched the way it traveled down her spine, spreading to each limb. Temperature didn't affect him, but he could register the fact that it was growing cooler on his bridge. Maitland had taken away power from life-support and he knew that, steadily, the temperature was dropping.

He looked back at Maitland. He was squinting against the blackness. Auxiliary lights offered limited visual aid; the glowing of red lights pained the eyes.

He felt a shift beneath his feet. The feeling wasn't unfamiliar to him. Power ran from unnecessary systems, filling the circuit cluttered floor with energy. It was heading to the shields, to the haul's structural integrity, to the inertial dampeners. It all created a familiar change- a buzzing of electricity that seemed to surround them and the pull on his body seemed to have increased, holding him down more forcefully to the floor.

He turned away. "Helm… prepare to jump to warp. Open a link to the fleet…"

/-/-

Kira raised her head, carefully surveying the bridge for a short moment. It was an old angle, one she hadn't looked from in many years. Captain Sisko stood just behind Jadzia, the Trill desperately clinging to the Helm as she fought against the lack of inertial dampeners. She couldn't help but feel as if she had been thrown back in time and into a battle between the once united Starfleet and the Gamma Quadrant's Dominion forces. But the civil war had squelched that war, or at least had postponed it for some years.

Her eyes looked away again, glancing at her tactical station, then back out the viewscreen.

She watched as it sped for them, the way they do- sleek black, hidden in its darkened environment; slicing through the void, avoiding the traps of debris and other ships; silent until the final seconds. She couldn't know how loud the explosion was for that wasn't what interrupted its soundless journey. Without protection from the inertial dampeners and their shields critically low, the _Defiant_ was rocked so brutally that it was nearly twisted into a 180 spin.

The ferocity of the attack had Kira flat against the floor. Her face had collided with something; she could feel the numbness that would soon be replaced with a stinging pain. Mostly she could feel the blood trickling onto her neck. It was hard to convince her muscles to push her off the ground, but once in the motions, she was back on her knees. She grabbed her console, using it to lift her limp body off the ground.

Her eyes did a quick glance. Most were rising, many of them supporting new injuries. But Sisko caught her eye last. He was just standing there. She couldn't even tell if he had been knocked to the ground at all or not. His body was turned just enough away from her that she couldn't see his face. She watched his body- he was completely still other than the shallow breathes being pumped from his body. Something was wrong.

His body began to shake, not in fear but in weariness and shock. As his knees trembled and his legs gave out beneath him, she could feel her entire world collapsing with him. She couldn't move; she could feel her mind leaping from its physical prison, already with him, tending to him, getting him help. Somewhere her mind conjured the image of tapping her commbadge and calling from Julian, but her hand was too far behind her mind to follow through with the command.

Moisture was growing just beneath her eyes. Her eyes blinked rapidly at the unfamiliar sensation. It was the only movement she made until she saw the final stage of Sisko's collapse. He was sprawled out on the deck before the Captain's chair; his one hand near his stomach, the other crushed beneath his body. Finally she ran to him, skidding and falling to her knees at his side. Her hands busied themselves with finding the wound; her mouth busied itself with talking to him, urging him to open his sealed eyes.

Her words cracked and her hands shook. She found herself accepting his fate and denying the possibility all at once. He was her Emissary, her Captain, her friend- he was a leader and a confidant in all aspects of her life. She couldn't bear to loose him then, and in such an undignified manner.

Her shoulders tensed at the tender hand. Julian's voice was ringing in her ears but she couldn't understand the words. She wondered briefly when he had arrived. Jadzia had probably summoned him; she wondered why she hadn't done the same herself. His hands were on top of hers, pulling them away from Sisko's wounded chest. She had to close her eyes as his body began to disintegrate before her eyes as Julian transported him to the Sickbay.

The same warm hands grabbed her shoulders, forcing her to rise. Tears slid down her cheeks as her eyes blinked open. Julian's warm brown orbs meet her gaze. She didn't speak- she couldn't speak- but she begged an answer to one simple question with her eyes. Julian, equally as dazed and lost for words, shook his head slowly.

Kira looked away, feeling a cool breeze against her tear streaked face. Conduits were exposed everywhere. Bulkheads had fallen, making the bridge a dangerous place to merely stand, much less be thrown about in. Three officers laid sprawled over consoles and the ground- all visibly dead. She could see that the rest were all limping or bleeding or in some manner injured.

She thought back to her last readings. They had no shields. They had few torpedoes left. Power was nearly drained and, what they had, had been converted to the phasers. Her ships and her crew were as torn and mattered as her soul felt in that moment.

Her head began to shake. She felt Julian taking her arm; she pulled it from his hold. Her legs, though they felt flimsy and useless, led her to Jadzia. The Trill was concentrated on holding the ship together, but Kira could see the traces of tears on her face. She had been closer to Sisko than anyone else.

"Take us out of here."

/-/-

It had always amazed Riker that the Federation had never taken over more of Cardassian space. They had stormed in two years ago, devastated the Cardassian fleet, and placed troops on Cardassia Prime. They made no other attempt to control the territory than that. And still, at the eve of battle, they thought only to protect Cardassia Prime from their invading enemy.

He just watched, breathing the calm air, as they turned tail and ran. It was an amazing feeling. It was a horrible feeling. It was a void of feelings.

He stood there, watching his so-called enemy retreat, watching their so-called victims breath an unsure sigh of freedom. He had thought- he had obsessed so much with the retrieval of their old territories, of protecting and reinforcing their borders, of worrying over tactical measures and strategic plans- that he hadn't considered the political implications.

What would they do now that they controlled Cardassia Prime? Would they guard Cardassia's extensive borders, protect them and the Alliance from future Federation attack? Or would they leave, giving the Cardassian's the room they needed to rebuild and recover?

These questions filled the void, circling around and making him dizzy. Riker just stood there, overlooking the devastated world and empty space. Looking just high enough to ignore the devastation their freedom had cost the Alliance.

/-/-/-/

/- _**A Few Days Later **_

There was something familiar about the way the buildings seemed to have crumbled in the corners, the way buildings stood vacant and in disrepair. He followed behind the others, a few short paces back. It gave him a view of the shattered walkway if he chose to look down.

For a population of so many, he could count on his hands how many Cardassians he had spotted on the way to the Nai'drac- the main Cardassian government building. He spotted a park and imagined the children who had once played there. He saw the empty roads and imagined them playing games until the odd transport came by. He imagined the people who had once walked that path to work, to school, to the local commerce centre. He wondered, for a long pause, what the Federation could have done to scare everyone from the streets. He wondered just how bad it had gotten- just how much they weren't willing to tell.

Finally, when his eyes could not longer look at the silent devastation, they found peace in looking at the clear sky. He couldn't see the stars, but he could imagine the ships hovering overhead. He could imagine Bajor not far away and the crowd of limping vessels guarding her station.

There were so many casualties. Such a high price for the space they had lost and the innocent bystanders that had been affected. So many good people were gone. For a short moment he let his mind wander, and he worried. He worried for his crew, his people who lined those crowded Sickbays, for the civilians on all those planets. And, for a moment, for Captain Janeway. He had heard of her condition; he wondered if she would ever wake from her coma. If she would ever see the good her crew had accomplished.

"She's right where you left her, Commander." Chakotay watched the doctor's hand as he swept it over the room, finally letting it rest in the direction of the far bed. He nodded in gratitude, then continued walking, letting his feet lead him to the same place he had escaped to rather than the relief of sleep.

His pace slowed as he watched her chest rise and fall in artificial gasps. He watched the blinking light, drawing a small amount of strength from its reassurance.

The stool hadn't moved from its place from yesterday. He sank down into it and, for the first time that day, felt the burdens of command and exhaustion seep over him.

His head reached up, splaying it over the thin covers. He didn't stop the impulse; his fingers wrapped around her still hand and his thumb rubbed circles over her knuckles. He could feel the pulling in his stomach return and he closed his eyes, clenching his teeth to bite through the crashing wave of emotions.

He couldn't watch the lifelessness any more. He couldn't talk through the threatening attack of tears. Instead, he just looked away. A window hung just over her bed; he watched, instead, the procession of Bajoran ships. He wondered vaguely what they were doing and where they were heading, but he didn't honestly care for the answers. He could see near the front of the procession was the _Defiant_. He wondered what Captain Kira's involvement was, but in the end he still didn't care.

Ships were still lumping in, begging for the safety of the station to repair their ships, begging for Bajoran resources. Kira sighed as her sights turned back to her fellow Bajoran ships. In a spectacle wave of colours, she watched as their presence opened the wormhole. Behind her, her crew watched in wonder. Some, old members, recalled the excitement and grandeur of exploring the Gamma Quadrant. Other, the youth, hardly recalled its existence.

Grief shook through her body; moisture formed in her eyes. Her eyes fell closed, tears pours down her cheeks; for the first time in her life she didn't feel compelled to brush them away. Breath after breath- it was all she could hear.

Her eyes finally opened. The black box, serene in its journey, was enveloped in the blue hands of the Prophet's hands. Their appearance and acceptance of their Emissary back to their home was brief before the opening to the Celestial Temple closed just as brilliantly and suddenly as it had opened.

Her Gods closed themselves from her people and their only connection had returned to them. All she had left to do was to wonder if the Prophets would still lead them through the worst to come, or if they already had.

/-/-

The Alliance is having a bit of a tough time.

Only one more year left... Please review and let me know how you think the past 14 have been.


	41. Year 15: 2386

_Author's Note: _Well, I hate to say it, but this is the last of four chapters. This was probably my favourite year to write, so I hope you enjoy it as well!

/-/-

**Year Fifteen: 2386**

/-/-/-/

A storm raged overhead, bringing with it a cloud of white mist.

The storm came with absolute suddenness, overtaking the ships without warning.

The mist entered, attacking, surrounding, encircling everything in its path. People halted in its power; its omnipresence scared them.

It burned the eyes of all who saw it. It burned the lungs of all who breathed while in it. It burned the minds of all, scarring them eternally.

And once it had conquered all- spreading to the fullest of the ships- it dissipated. The storm had left long before it.

Suddenly, all seemed calm again.

/-/-/-/

/- _**Early January, A Few Weeks After the Battle at Cardassia**_

"Captain's Log. Stardate: 38601.14.

"It's been three weeks since we took Cardassia from the Federation. Three weeks and the first sign that they hadn't been completely crushed by that battle was yesterday…

"It's been three wonderfully quiet and horribly stressful weeks. I have since taken over command of Deep Space Nine as Captain and I have appointed Commander Jadzia Dax field Captain of the _Defiant_. There are currently seventy-four ships in Bajoran space awaiting repairs. Three engineering ships have been sent here to assist and one is currently assembling three spacedocks. They tell me they'll be finished within the week. But then, they said that last week."

Kira rubbed at her cheek but it did nothing to relieve the stress in her jaw. She hadn't thought that it would.

"Um… Our reports show that the Federation has increased its protection around both Trill and Vigo. We have been strengthening our borders and repairing our ships- we don't have the strength to attack now before more ships are sent there. High Command, however, has hinted at the possibility. Soon though… Eventually…"

She just sat there for a moment. There was one final thing she needed to add, but she had no desire to put words to the thoughts running through her mind.

"Yesterday, a patrol ship came upon two ships… the _Ares _and the _Mars_. There seemed to be no external damage and so the patrol ship ran a few scans. Twenty-five hundred people on board two dead ships… Further tests showed that… Somehow Federation ships made it to them and… and beamed on board some of that… that biochemical weapon. They haven't used it in a long time but… but you never forget something like that. Once you see… that. Once you see what that thing does, you never forget about it… A transport pod was infected with it once- years ago- and they were brought to DS9 first… And I've never been able to erase that from my mind.

"So many people were relieved when it seemed like they had stopped using it. I personally had hoped that maybe something had happened- they ran out of it and couldn't manufacture more… something, anything to keep more lives from being lost to that…

"Computer, end log."

/-/-/-/

/- _**A Few Days Later**_

"Doctor Bashir, I assume?"

"Yes?" The Captain was standing just within the entrance to the door, forcing them to remain open and expose the Infirmary to the clamour of the Promenade. Julian looked him over, testing his memory with the man's face but no name attached itself. "And you…?"

"Captain Sanders." The Captain took a few sudden steps forward and Julian expected him to come shake his hand. But Sanders stopped a few meters short of such contact; he gripped his hands behind his back instead. "I've heard some great things about you. Your record is exemplary."

"Thank-you."

"Doctor, I assume you know about B-472."

Julian looked to the side unconsciously, slowly nodding yes as the numbers registered in his memory. "Yes, I know what it is."

"How familiar are you with it?"

He shrugged, brows rising at his own ignorance. "Enough to know what it can do. Why?"

Sanders nodded. "You heard about the _Ares _and the _Mars_?"

"Another tragedy, yes."

"Yes," Sanders pulled in a breath, collecting his thoughts before he decided on how to form his next words. "Well, over five years ago the Federation suddenly stopped using it. And, after a year of no attacks, the twelve teams we had thrown together to investigate B-472 were dismantled… Many of those officers are now dead." It was the bluntness in his words that had Julian looking away. His eyes were only drawn back by Sanders' next words. "If the Federation is desperate enough to use it once, they'll use it again and so we need new teams to investigate this thing."

"You're asking me?"

"To join one of these teams, yes."

His body shifted and his head dropped to look down at the floor to his right. Then he sighed and looked back at Sanders. "What can you tell me about this weapon that I don't already know?"

"We're certain that it's an airborne substance. It originally enters through the respiratory system and implants itself into part of the brain. It somehow mutates and becomes infectious through tactile contact alone. It also disappears from the air entirely- we're not sure how. It's also undetectable when in the victim's body."

Slowly he nodded, "Making it impossible to test."

"Right." Sanders paused, wetting his lips before continuing. "It's gets worse. Since it was last used… it seems the Federation has updated it."

"Updated it? How so?"

"We're not sure, but a much higher percentage dies from it now."

For a long pause, Julian stared out at the destruction just outside of his Infirmary- the mess that was once the magnificent market place and Promenade. "And you want me to head one of these teams that does… what exactly?"

"You go to the infection sight. You're job is to attempt to find any evidence of the contaminate and to mark all the victims with transport tags. You're team will also work with a branch of Alliance Fleet Medical. It was created not long after the first attacks; it houses and cares for the victims specifically. They've continued to do research, but not much. Mostly it's just psychologists there now. You'll work directly with them to try and find a cure, or vaccine, or something."

Julian nodded, "And this is on Betazed?"

"Yes."

"And I would be stationed part time on another ship?"

"It would transport you to the infected areas, yes."

Again, he nodded, thoughts running just behind his eyes. "I'll admit that I'm intrigued with the idea of actual medical research again but… I have a family here. I have friends here. I'm responsible for the lives on this station and the _Defiant_. I… I need time to consider this."

The Captain bobbed his head in response, "I understand. The offer will still be there, but we need an answer."

"Thank-you."

Sanders offered no more acknowledgement of him or their discussion. With the dismissal, he cast a quick glance around the Infirmary, turned on his heels, and then marched through the parted doors.

/-/-/-/

/- _**That Night**_

Julian looked up at the scrapping of a chair against the floor. Ty hopped down, reaching up to pull his plate off the dinner table. Julian watched him put his plate in the replicator as he chewed his last bite. His eyes flashed up towards Jadzia; his wife took no note of the six-year-old's actions. His eyes continued along their circle, coming upon JJ. He had finished some time ago but had seemed to wait for Ty to leave first. Slowly, he pushed back his chair and slide out of it.

Julian didn't think much about his son getting up and bringing his plate to the replicator; in fact he expected it of him. It was when JJ turned back and took his mother's and then his plate, only to repeat the motion once again to pick up the glasses. The replicator hummed and already the meal was cleaned up. JJ said nothing; he pushed his chair and without another word he walked into his room. It was something he had never seen in his son. They never demanded him to clean-up after anyone but himself. He considered where he learned it. Julian just stared back at his son's room. It wasn't him cleaning up the table that had stunned him. He was more concerned with the fact that he had missed so much of his son's life. When had he learned manners? When had he developed such a fondness for the solitude of his own room? When had he lost interest in speaking with them for hours about his day?

Julian sighed and looked across the table to see Jadzia standing over the replicator. He spent only a moment pondering what she was doing. He took a deep breath; he knew he needed to talk to her then.

"So… a Captain Sanders came by today."

"Who?"

He glanced at her, "He's the Captain in charge of the investigations into B-472."

"B-472?"

"It's what that Federation weapon is called." He held his breath as he watched her freeze. She tensed as she turned to look at him. Her face was even, and he could almost pretend that she hadn't heard him. But he could see that she was trying to think and understand; she just couldn't quite bring herself to do it. "Captain Sanders asked me to command one of the research teams-"

"You mean those people who agree to go and get themselves killed by looking for a weapon that doesn't just kill people, it-"

"I know what it does, Jadzia." He swallowed down his desire to become adamant about it, to yell at her to get his point across. When Captain Sanders had talked to him, he had known that Jadzia wouldn't appreciate his desire to go. He actually hadn't known how she might act.

"What about JJ and Ty?'

He blew out a low groaning sigh as he looked back at her. "They'll be safe here-"

"That's not what I'm asking."

He couldn't look her in the eye and knew what she was accusing him of. He looked away. "I know."

"You're going to be on Betazed most of the time. What time will you have to come back to DS9? When will the kids get to see you?"

He sighed again, shaking his head. He still couldn't look at her. "I don't know."

"Why would you want to join this team?" It was this question that had him looking at her again. Her arms were crossed over her chest; she was rocking back and forth; in her eyes he could tell that she honestly couldn't fathom the answer.

His lungs filled as a frustrated huff of air passed over his lips. His eyes fell to the floor again. "Jadzia… I became a doctor to help people. And I came out here because I had hoped to be able to do some research; to find cures to diseases and medical discoveries that would save lives. I didn't become a doctor to patch up wounded kids. I didn't do it to watch patient after patient die. I want to do some good in this war."

"And you have and you will even if you stay here."

"I can't keep doing what I've been doing. I need a break, even if for just a short time. I need to get away from all this."

He glanced up, hoping to see some dawning of understanding pass over her face. He saw it there, vaguely. Jadzia was nodding just slightly, jerkily, but it was as if she was confirming something to herself and not to him. "I don't want you to leave and I don't want you to take this assignment… but I know that you've already decided to go and I'm not going to stop you."

It wasn't the answer he had expected to hear. He hadn't expected immediate approval, or even a quick agreement. He had expected her to argue for a time, eventually relent, and sometime soon come to respect his decision. He could sense that she didn't want him going but she knew why he wanted to. He wasn't sure if he had won or not. "Jadzia, if you don't-"

"Julian… Go. Just try to come back."

"I will." He didn't hear the words so much as he heard the meanings. He just nodded before he had time to think about it.

/-/-/-/

/- _**Recorded In January, Around the Same Time**_

"Message sent from: Jonathon James Bashir. Message sent to: Chamberlain Jean-Luc Riker.

"Hope you don't mind me writing this… I just need to talk to someone. I can't talk to my mum about it and… my friends don't understand. I've haven't really seen them in so long. A lot of them didn't even come back…

"My da's leaving tomorrow. Not like he normally does. He and my mum usually go with the _Defiant_ for a couple of days. Sometimes a week or two at a time. But he's never left like this. This is reassignment. They're sending him to Betazed. I don't know why- we need doctors too. Everyone needs doctors. It's some kind of special assignment, I guess…

"I don't want him to leave. I'm afraid."

/-/-/-/

/- _**Same Day As the Recording**_

It was a stuttered breath she took when she stepped closer to the Infirmary. It was hard for her to walk in there and say good-bye to a friend, especially such a good one. She had considered leaving without seeing him, but she knew in her heart that if something happened- and that was all too likely to be the case- that she would never forgive herself.

It took another deep breath and a conscious scolding to bring her feet the rest of the way. The doors parted in her wake. She strutted inside, commanding a respect she had long ago earned and displaying an air that said she had never once hesitated making a visit to the doctor.

"Julian?" Her voice was met with a few quick glances, but no Julian. She looked around, taking in familiar faces of Bajoran nurses and medics and doctors that she had known for years as well as new but recognizable faces of fresh transfers. But there was one her eyes stopped on. Her gaze lingered for a moment too long; the woman looked up, her eyes equally as blank before returning to her work.

"Julian?" she called out again, this time receiving an answer. A muffled response came from the back. "Julian… Where are you?"

"Back here."

She turned to the side, peering around the corner as she walked into the back rooms where some patients were kept and surgery was performed. She found Julian standing over one of the biobed, random instruments tossed on the work bench.

"What are you doing?" They both just stood there, neither saying another, both just letting Kira's question echo throughout the empty room.

Finally, he looked up, but his gaze was on the far wall. She could hear the dazed confusion in his words when he asked, "What?" It was reflected on his face when he turned to look at her.

"I just came to say goodbye."

"I'm not leaving for two days."

"I'm going with the _Defiant_." He nodded, understanding flowing into his eyes as the briefing that morning flooded into the forefront of his mind. She wouldn't have been surprised if he was half-asleep throughout it, especially during the short segment when she had merely announced Admiral Riker's intention to send the _Defiant_, along with others, to help in Cardassian space.

"Well then…" He sighed, shaking his head. He stepped closer to her, smiling gently to relieve his own worries. "This isn't really goodbye, goodbye. I'll be back, as often as I can."

"I know." Kira reached her arms over his shoulders and pulled him to her. Her fingers ran over the fabric, feeling their softness contrasting the firmness of his back. "You be careful out there."

"I will… Keep my home safe for me."

"Don't worry about that." Julian nodded; he wasn't worried over Kira's command or the station's durability, he was simply worried about how his family would bare his absence. "I should get going."

He nodded, looking back to his hands as he waited for her to walk out. But then a thought struck him and he looked back at her, catching her attention. "You don't have a doctor going with you?"

"No… well, a couple of medics."

"Take Commander Novak?"

"The new CMO?"

"Yeah. Get her boots wet."

Kira sucked in a breath, but it did nothing to tame her frustration. "You picked a doctor without combat experience?"

Julian shrugged, but the soft curve of his lip revealed a further meaning to his words. "She's one of the best."

"I don't need a specialist, Julian, I need a good doctor under pressure."

"She'll be fine. Take her along."

Kira sighed and then bobbed her head into a nod. "Bye. Good luck."

"You too."

Kira retraced her earlier path and returned to the main section of the Infirmary. Her head twisted to the side to see over her shoulder. The new Commander was in the back, a new nurse at her side, as she reorganized a few supplies. For seventeen years it had been Julian's Infirmary, and now she was making it her own.

Slowly, Kira shook her head. She didn't want to say what she was about to, but she had no choice. Julian was a close friend, but this woman was one of her officers and now a member of her senior officers.

"Commander Novak?"

Her name startled her reflexes and she looked up, her eyes scanning the room to find who called her name. "Yes?"

"Pack your bags- you're coming with us on the _Defiant_."

"Sorry?"

Kira sighed, rubbing at her brow. "Pack what you'll need for a five day excursion. We shouldn't see any fighting, but one never knows."

"Right." The Commander looked away for only a second; Kira could tell that she was trying to process all that had just occurred. The gesture only made her nervous about the Commander's reaction time in the field. "Okay."

"We're leaving in two hours."

"Yes, ma'am."

/-/-/-/

/- _**Around the Same Time**_

"I like how you added a hallway and changed all the room numbers. That really gave me a laugh when I got lost."

Deanna heard the words only because the walls funnelled them to her ears. It took a moment to realize what had been said and an even longer moment for her to realize that she recognized the sarcasm that had graced her ears. She turned, slowly at first until the first traces that it was a Vigolian standing behind her hit her eyes. What had started as a tentative smirk grew larger, growing in a wide grin. "Salizhan!"

Sal laughed at the exclamation. Her eyes lit up and her shoulders shook and suddenly three years of stress seemed to wash away from her face. "I was hoping that you'd be here."

"Hey, come here." Deanna stepped in and wrapped her arms around Sal. Sal, for her part as a Vigolian, stiffened some but eventually relaxed into the friendly embrace. "So how have you been? How was life on a starship?"

"All right, sort of. You know how that is."

"Yeah."

"I just got my space legs though." Maybe it was how earnestly she said it or maybe it was a ghost of a memory of Sal announcing that she had finally developed land-legs, she wasn't sure, but she was sure that it was one of the two that made her face split and her belly hurt as she chuckled heartedly. "How about you?" She asked when Deanna caught her breath, "How are the kids?"

"They're good. We all are. Right now, Liz's big thing is trying to convince her father to let her enter the Academy."

"He won't let her?" Deanna shook her head. "Can't blame him."

"I can't say that I want her to join, but I think it's her decision."

"Yeah…" Sal nodded, but Deanna could sense that Sal's opinion laid with Will's. "And Chamberlain?"

"He's doing well."

"He must be huge now."

"Yeah… ten. He'll be eleven in October."

"Oh wow." Sal opened her mouth to begin another thought, but her comment seemed lost upon her. She closed her mouth and Deanna could sense something from her stance that the conversation was over. Deanna tried to catch her eye, but Sal was looking behind her. Deanna twisted to see what had captivated her. A Commander stood there, his dark hair shaggy, his eyes glazed, his beard two days overdue for a shave. He had a kind of familiar quality about him and the more she looked at him, the more she saw past the person and saw a name.

"Dr. Bashir? I'm Deanna Troi."

He smiled at her, relief to know that he was no longer lost or wandering. "Hello," he said with a nod before taking her hand. His eyes turned onto Sal and she nodded at him.

"Dr. Salizhan."

"Pleasure," he replied, but didn't extend his hand to her. Instead he bowed his head. "Might I assume that you two are part of this team?"

"I am."

"I just work here," he gave a slight smirk in Deanna's direction. "I'm giving the presentation to your team and Sal's team."

Bashir nodded. He felt the silence take over the conversation and so he rocked back on his heels and looked away. His eyes searched the hall, wondering which room the others were in. "And our teams are…?"

"Probably lost," Sal tossed back. Julian smirked, but Deanna, the only one without that recent experience, lost the humour in her comment.

"Coming. We've still got a few minutes."

"Yeah."

Deanna looked over as she caught sight of another man rounding the corner. She looked up at him, her eyes straying from his dark hair, to his bright eyes, to his chiselled jawed. He stepped forward awkwardly; he rubbed unconsciously at the back of his hand as he slowed, looking each of them over as he did so.

"Hi, um… Dr. Bashir?" His hand vaguely gestured towards Bashir.

"Yes?"

The man sighed, relief flowing over his face. "Just making sure I'm in the right spot. I'm Lieutenant John Anderson." The two men nodded at each other. Then Anderson looked over at the two women, and he flashed a brief smile at both of them.

Deanna felt the silence pressing down on all four of them, herself especially. She rocked back on her heels and then the balls of her feet; she clasped her hands behind her back. She felt a faint tug pull at the back of her mind. She peered over her shoulder in time to watch a gaggle of officers round the corner. "I think that's them. We should probably go into the conference room now."

She vaguely registered that some of them nodded and then followed her through the opened door. They filtered in behind her, and she was relieved to hear more than three sets of footsteps.

Deanna didn't sit; she stood at the front console watching as they came in, slightly dazed, slightly nervous, but slowly calming as they found themselves falling into a familiar routine. Her eyes cast around the room. Bashir had taken his seat across from Sal; most likely, she assumed, because he knew them to be the two commanders. Anderson sank into the seat besides Bashir, most likely because he knew him to be his commander. Five others took a moment before splitting off. She looked at each of them briefly, taking in their appearance and trying to match it with a name. She recognized Lieutenant Wong, a young officer who had recently improved methods of treating plasma burns. He was a member of Sal's team. Lieutenant O'Ryan stood out as well, being so tall with fiery red hair. He was a member of Bashir's team. Of the other three, she only could recall Lieutenant Commander Muller's name- a woman who had engineered a smaller, more reliable medical tricorder.

Slowly air made it passed her lips and to her lungs, refocusing her mind onto the task at hand. She turned on the display and immediately the murmuring had ceased; all eyes were upon her.

/-/-/-/

/- _**Recorded In Late January**_

"Message sent from: Chamberlain Jean-Luc Riker. Message sent to: Jonathon James Bashir.

"Have you ever thought about going to the Academy, James? Did you know that they lowered the entrance age last year? It's fifteen now. I can go in four years. I don't think… I know my parents don't want me to go, but I plan on it…

"Liz has been fifteen for a while… we've talked about it some. She wants to go and train as an engineer. I think she'd do well, but our parents and even gamma won't let her go.

"You know how close we live to the Academy? Well, she went there about two months ago to get some information on signing up and all that. Well she met a cadet- Drake. They're dating now. He's pretty raz, I guess, but I try not to talk to him much. After this summer, he'll be entering his third year. Did you know that, before the war, some third year cadets and all the fourth year cadets used to go on exploratory assignments on starships- that's where that started. Now they need every body they can get. Cadet is practically synonymous to Ensign these days. He'll probably be leaving for some out of the way, boring job that no one wants soon. He probably won't so anything too dangerous- not yet. Even so, I don't particularly plan to get attached before that happens…

"Well I should get going… Bye."


	42. Year 15: 2386, continued

/-/-/-/

/- _**Around the Same Time**_

Heavy feet dragged her into the ready room; exhaustion carried her to the chair. Her body collapsed into it, sending it spinning to the right. Kira set her feet firmly on the ground when her eyes met the comm. screen. She waited a moment and then reached out to activate it. The sight of Ops on DS9 appeared and then Jadzia's face, obscuring further sight of the room.

"How's everything on the station?"

"All right. Everything… seems calm."

Kira nodded, "Good."

"Odo says he misses you." She could feel the blood rush to her cheeks but rolled her eyes at her friend to place a cloud of distance between her and her embarrassment. "What? I'm just sending along his message."

"This is supposed to be an official communiqué."

"Fine then… Let's talk official stuff. What's your official opinion in regards to Odo missing you?"

"Shut up." Laughter filtered over the comm. It seemed different- Kira couldn't be certain if the speakers had altered it or if it had simply been so long since she had last heard it that she no longer recognized it. The latter was a sad thought, and one she pushed from her mind.

"So anyway… There was a little problem with Quarks' replicator and, Miles being busy, sent a new Ensign to check it out… But with Quark whining in the poor boy's ear, he made it worse." Kira chuckled at the thought of Quark's annoying hovering. Though, she knew from experience, that it was a feeling far from amusing when on the receiving end. "It was quite the mess. Drinks appearing without cups; food without plates… food without being cooked. Melted ice cream and cold coffee. Oh, absolutely lovely."

"Well that's what that little toad gets."

"Yeah… And that was really about it. Repairs on the station and on the ships are moving along nicely. Six ships left today, another three are scheduled to leave tomorrow, and one more hailed to say that they will be arriving tomorrow."

Her head nodded just slightly, "Okay… Good."

"How's Dr. Novak working out?"

Kira shrugged. The doctor had hardly impressed her, but she hadn't done anything to bother her either. "She's fine. We haven't really talked much."

"You should. Julian said she's very nice and very good at her job." Kira just shrugged again in response. Jadzia sighed at Kira; she shook her head and then asked, "What about your end?"

She sighed, felling the tension rushing back into her body. She rubbed at the back of her neck, trying to rub away the stress but to no avail. "Phaser fire was detected in seven more cities… they're pulling each other apart. When the Federation occupied this territory, they destroyed every ship with offensive capabilities. That killed most of the Cardassian army. They took the emperor back to Earth. He's somewhere, if he's still alive, in Federation territory. No one can decide or agree on one person to lead their empire. There was a provisional government that had been set up during the occupation- we had assumed that they would continue to hold power." She shook her head; it was a gesture somewhere between pitying and annoyed. "The majority of them were driven into hiding and we can't locate them."

Kira's eye wandered form the screen and she stopped talking for a moment as she collected her thoughts. "I thought my world had been a mess. The Cardassians raped our world for forty years. And in a few years, the Federation has already done more damage to them than they ever did to us. We were disorganized and it took up a long time to get back on our feet, but we at least had something to rally around. We, at least, managed to function. This… this is anarchy at its finest and no one here knows what to do to control it."

Kira had spent much of her life fighting against them, resisting against them physically, mentally, emotionally, and even spiritually. It had taken long after her world had been freed for her to stop fighting them. Maybe, thinking about it, she had never truly stopped fighting against them. Not until she had seen how pitiful they were; how this powerful nation, these proud people had fallen so fast and so hard. "It's ironic, in a way." Kira knew that Jadzia could only nod; she didn't understand it in the same way. "Well… I have to go. Keep me updated if anything happens."

Jadzia bobbed her head, "Will do." Kira nodded back in one stiff motion.

Kira reached forward, her hand reaching to deactivate the link. But she stopped, mid-reach, and a smile played on her lips. "Oh… and tell Odo that I miss him too." Jadzia's eyes lit up with her smirk. She nodded and then simply faded into blackness.

/-/-/-/

/- _**Around the Same Time**_

The stars were dark as they passed by, stretching and growing before her eyes without even a shred of light to illuminate their strange behaviour. She sat there, even though, and watched, her mind's eye filling in for what her real eyes could not. She sat, unblinking, as if in a trance. As if, if she were to blink, she would miss that singular chance of seeing something.

But there was nothing- nothing except a void of darkness.

It hadn't always been that way. Once she had sat, cuddled on her office sofa and watched foreign and familiar stars. She had once taken comfort in those brief moments of normalcy.

But those moments were gone. They had ended the moment darkness had covered her eyes that day fighting for Cardassia. She had submitted to the darkness, trusting in the Doctor to pull her back into the light. He had tried, but he only brought her to motion and to thought, not to light.

Captain Janeway sighed, her eyelids slowly dropping shut. There was no difference between them opened and them closed. There was no difference in darkness. There was no difference between her lovely ship and the transport she was sitting in. No difference except how many steps it took to get to the door, to the window, to anything she needed to get to.

She found it embarrassing how she had to extend her hands to keep from walking into things. She had thought she knew her ready room, her bridge, her room, her Sickbay so intimately that she could simply walk as if she could see. That simply led her into walls, into consoles, into people, and other obstacles. She couldn't see the readouts on the console, she couldn't watch the friendly ships that surrounded her own ship, she couldn't see the damage she was standing in- simply another danger to fear.

She could hear it in their voices and could imagine it in their faces. She knew that as the Doctor was bumbling through his words that he had something he couldn't bear to say to her. She knew what he wanted; she knew what he was thinking. It hurt to say that she agreed.

She had little hope, just as he did, that her sight would return soon. It could be a mere few days or weeks before it returned or it could be much longer- months, even years. She couldn't bear to think that it might persist any longer. But she knew, just as he did, that a starship wasn't a place for her. It was dangerous just to move about it when it was perfectly safe from harm; it was suicidal to think that she could move about during battle. She couldn't see what threatened her ship; she wouldn't be able to give orders quickly enough or flawlessly enough to protect them.

They had won Cardassian space three weeks ago, or so she had been told. Janeway had awakened two weeks into the process of trying to repair the damaged world. Three days later, she had come to her decision; five days later, she was on a medical transport on her way to Betazed.

/-/-/-/

/- _**March, A Few Weeks Later**_

Ken rounded the corner, nodding towards Miss Langdon as he did so. She smiled sweetly back at him.

"Is he in there?"

"He's in the courtyard."

Ken nodded, smiling at her only so that he could hide his scowl. "Thank-you." He stepped over the threshold and his eyes skimmed over the office, just to make sure that Miss Langdon's intelligence was accurate. Then he turned to look out at the forcescreen. He groaned and then stepped through it.

Suddenly he flinched back in surprise. He reached up to his eye, swearing under his breath as he felt the tender spot. Amen had fired the main gardener- he said he liked its look better when it appeared untamed. The gardener hadn't agreed. Frustrated, Ken knocked away the leaves in his way, pushing his way through the half obstructed path.

"Ah, Ken, there you are." Ken froze, his eyes taking in his surroundings desperately. The voice seemed to have come from no where.

"You wanted to discuss something?" he called, hoping to hear where the voice was.

"Yes. For god sakes, man, I'm over here." Ken twisted around, arching his back and neck, trying in vain to see over the overgrown plants. Finally he got a hint of an opening and pushed his way inside. Amen nodded when he saw him, a distracted sigh escaping his lips in the form of a vague "yes". Ken looked at him, waiting for Amen to tell him why he had been summoned. It was Amen's way; he liked to think he had power. Or rather, it's why he did.

"Our doctors have reported that the alterations have been completed."

"Alterations?" Ken looked up, "I was never told about these."

"No? Yes, well… They will do much more damage now… just for these two."

Ken just stared at him. Not because he didn't understand, not because the meaning of Amen's words had escaped him, but simply because he hadn't thought that far. He hadn't thought how Amen would incite just that much more protest, that more support for him. He should have known that Amen would be three steps ahead and one to the side.

Finally, Ken nodded, "Right."

Amen nodded back. Ken watched as he turned away and then walked off into the wild garden, as if he had forgotten someone else was there with him. Ken followed, unconvinced that he was finished with him. The place was maze-like, but Amen simply walked as if he could see his goal through the thick shrubbery. And in moments they reached that goal. Ken might have killed Amen for making him go through his garden only to lead him back into the hall. "And the targets?"

Ken started. "Oh, um… yes." He sighed and scratched at his still tender eye. "We have chosen Outpost 35 for the first target."

"Very good. A good place to test the alterations." Ken just nodded.

"And then A'vish shipyard." He cringed. It had been hard choosing a place, but rationalizing the choice was far harder. "Its population is relatively small, but people know what and where it is."

Amen nodded, an approving frown appearing on his face. "Very good. Have the ships fitted and sent out within the hour."

"Yes, sir."

Ken nodded but then stopped in the hall even as Amen continued on. He sighed and then glanced around the hall. It seemed odd to him how openly, at times, they spoke about the thing, how many opportunities many had to hear of it and yet so few had. No one knew the thing existed except for the doctors who made it and the people on the few ships who had used it before. It was a secret so well kept that they could do what they were about to do. Soon he would have a hand in smearing the honour and integrity of the Alliance. Soon he would have a hand in reaffirming Federation support in the war. Soon he would truly hate himself.

/-/-/-/

/- _**At the Same Time**_

One… two… three… four… five… six… seven… turn… one… two… three… four… five… six… seven… turn…

Reggie had lost count of how many times she had paced the small cell. She had lost count of how many hours she had been imprisoned.

Her tongue wet her lips and she sighed as she wondered how Manick could possibly get her out of there.

"_Andy, Bres, come with me for a minute."_

_Manick's words caught Reggie's attention, pulling Reggie's eyes away from Andy and Bres. Manick was walking passed, his tone was always one that suggested that he wasn't going to stop and wait for them. Bres pushed himself off the desk corner and Andy dropped his hands to his sides; both fell into step behind Manick. Reggie sighed, and, with her entertainment gone, she shifted and started to walk away. _

"_Reggie," she turned at her name, amused to find that Manick had startled Andy and Bres by his abrupt turn, "You come too."_

_Reggie's brow raised curiously, but she said nothing and fell into step behind the three guys. _

"_Andy and Bres, I've got a transport waiting for you. Julia has already taken care of the darts and mission objectives, but I want the two of you to keep an eye on things."_

"_I'm quite positive that Julia isn't going to be impressed by us coming in like that."_

"_She's going on the mission with them." _

_Bres looked over at Reggie and Andy. His raised brows impressed upon her his amusement and shock. "And she wants us there to run things?"_

"_No, I want you there to run things. You leave in an hour." Reggie smirked as the two guys shared a look. Manick was well known for dropping such sudden announcement like that on people. It was for security, he claimed but she knew him well enough to know that it was for his own control over people. But he was in charge and never once had she heard of anyone challenging his orders. Not even she or Andy had ever felt themselves to be over his authority. The two guys said nothing; just nodded, sighed, and walked away. _

"_Reggie?"_

_Reggie's eyes had followed Bres as he walked away. Her name caused a sluggish reaction; awkwardly she looked over at Manick. "Yep?"_

"_I've got something else I need you to do for me."_

"_And what's that?"_

Five… six… seven… sigh… turn… one… two… sigh…

Reggie paused in her pacing. Her legs had grown tired and her mind had grown numb. There was nothing to think about- not Manick, not the others, not names, not the information she had found hours before. Her mind had been made numb to it all. She had to.

It only took one look at the Starfleet officer that walked in and she knew who they had sent. Already she felt the prodding thoughts, the imposing force that tickled the edges of her thoughts. But there were none beyond a vague wondering of why she was there.

"You know why."

Reggie sighed, making a dramatic point of huffing and rolling her eyes at the man. "Yes, because my ID didn't check on the way out. But I don't know why it didn't."

"Surely you do."

She shook her head. "If I did, then I wouldn't be asking the question."

"What were you doing in the Federation Consulate?"

"I'm a messenger for Admiral Ziph."

"What message did you have?"

"A classified one." The officer just looked at her, a sceptically brow raised. "I don't read them before I deliver them."

His lips didn't curl in a smirk. His head didn't even bob in acknowledgement of her comment. "Admiral Ziph?"

"You don't know him?"

"No."

She shook her head, sighing as she turned away from him. Her eyes turned to find him again and her body followed. "Call him. He'll confirm what I said."

For a moment he just looked at her, his eyes hard and cold. She wanted to shiver under his gaze, but she didn't. Her greens eyes met his, holding them and daring them to find something buried in her mind. He broke his gaze, her defiance discouraging him. Without another word, he left.

_Reggie stepped out into the corridor. She didn't look the other way, she just began to walk, her chin raised, her eyes set, her presence giving off an aura of purpose. _

_But she didn't make it far before footsteps made her tense. She looked up; her eyes widened then searched the hall. She kept her eyes forward and pretended as if she were entering her access code into the wall console. The footsteps grew closer and suddenly words became clear. _

"_And the targets?" She glanced over her shoulder to see who had spoken; Amen was looking back at Ambassador Smith. _

"_Oh, um… yes." She watched as he reached up to his eye, wincing as if the spot were tender. "We have chosen Outpost 35 for the first target."_

"_Very good. A good place to test the alterations." He nodded at Amen. He took a breath, preparing to speak. _

"_And then A'vish shipyard. Its population is relatively small, but people know what and where it is." _

_Reggie looked out just as Amen's head lowered approvingly. "Very good," he sighed, "Have the ships fitted and sent out within the hour."_

"_Yes, sir."_

_She ducked her head behind the pillar, fearing that one of them may head the other way and see her. When neither came, she peaked out. Ken stood, his mind obviously deep in thought; Amen was nowhere to be seen. Reggie hid again, holding her breath as if that would better protect her. _

_She knew what had been said, but she didn't know what any of it meant. Two places- one Alliance and one Federation- were being attacked. Attacked by something altered- a new photon torpedo perhaps? She couldn't know, but she knew the name. Julia and the others would arrive at the A'vish shipyard within a day. _

The cool April breeze hit her cheeks as she stepped out of the Federation Consulate. She looked off to the left before turning to the right. The path led her along a series of streets, letting her loose herself in the city.

She stopped suddenly. Finally he let the façade fall away, letting all the suppressed thoughts come back to her. Finally she felt safe enough from the probing intrusions of the telepathic officer. She ran a hand along the side of her arm. Somewhere just under her skin was a subdermal locator. She felt the light burn of it being activated and waited. They were expecting her; it wouldn't take long for them to beam her out of the streets of Paris.

Her eyes fluttered up to the sky as she waited. Up there, Julia and her pilots were heading for the A'vish shipyard and soon so would a small fleet of Federation ships. She couldn't say that she understood all of what had been said between Amen and Ken Smith but she understood that much. Her eyes fluttered shut. She wished that she understood the rest; she wished that she knew what kind of danger they faced.

/-/-/-/

/- _**A Few Hours Later **_

"How many are there?"

"The report said not quite one hundred."

Sal nodded, grey-blue eyes surveying the entrance room. Their facility had been made of several rooms, tracts almost that their patients rotated through until being placed in a final, permanent area. The entrance room was the first- where they were thoroughly looked over and all data was compiled. They were given numbers and then they were sent off to the next room where, hopefully, an identity would be placed with their face.

Off in the corner she noticed that her team had arrived with the diagnostic equipment.

"The report also mentioned that scans show that Federation ships remained in the area for longer than normal." Sal felt a tap against her arm; her eyes glanced in the direction of Lieutenant Wong, but her focus didn't deviate from Deanna's words. Not at first. "They were there for nearly an hour afterwards; as if they were waiting for something."

Sal nodded. She felt Wong tap her arm again and, suddenly, she noticed the thing in Wong's hand that she was trying to thrust into Sal's. "What's this?"

"It's yours."

Sal finally took in her face. Her eyes were visible, clear and looking oddly back at her. But as Sal's eyes travelled further down, she found something discolouring the woman's skin. A mask covered her mouth and nose; her breath made a soft hissing as she exhaled. "You know, we've already discovered that the disease isn't airborne after it invades the host body."

Sal saw a hint of something in Wong's look. There was even a sarcasm in her voice that Sal had never heard before. "I know. It's still the safest way to go about this thing." Sal could only cock an eyebrow at the presumptuous tone. It seemed her few months on the team had come to outweigh her several years working on the disease. "We should have to wear them on away missions."

"Yeah, well, they're unnecessary and, quite frankly, uncomfortable. I'll take my chances." Deanna's curiosity was peaked at the sarcasm in Sal's voice. She wielded wit like she wielded a tricorder; humour wasn't simply a tension reliever, it was practically the only way she knew how to speak. But Deanna had never heard such dry sarcasm drip off Sal's voice; but she had especially never felt what was radiating from Sal's mind. Deanna's head tilted off to the side; there was something playing between the lines of their words, a story Deanna had yet to hear.

"_Bashir to Troi and Sal." _The voice came from somewhere else, startling away the tension that had weighted down the air around them.

Deanna didn't hesitate, her instincts shocking her hand into tapping her badge. "Troi here."

"And me," Sal called into the air. "We're just about ready down here; where are you?"

A faint sound made it through subspace; Deanna could only imagine that it had been a sigh. _"About ten minutes out… You can stop preparing the in-patient area."_

"Why?" Deanna looked over at Sal as she asked her question. Sal's focus was on the floor; Deanna could tell that, in her mind's eye, Julian was standing there with them.

"_Prepare the morgue… they were all dead when we got there."_

"All of them? But there were-"

"_Seventy eight, yeah. All dead."_

"It's usually only three out of every hundred." Sal broke her concentration to send a look at Wong, but her eyes strayed back to the floor not long after.

"_Yeah…" _His next words hung silent in the air. They couldn't hear if there was anyone on the other side with him. Whatever was on his mind kept him quite for a long pause; the knowledge that there was something more to be said kept them equally as mute. _"We'll be there in eight minutes." _

"We'll be ready for you." Deanna tapped the link closed; it was the only action her tired mind could decide to do. Her chin lifted and her eyes met Sal's. "You don't think they changed it again, do you? It could have been why they stayed there waiting."

"Possibly… But it doesn't make sense. If they were interested in killing people, they would have just done that from the start. No, this has always been some kind of sick pet project. Something must have happened."

"They couldn't have all had an allergic reaction." Wong glanced between the two. "But what would have caused nearly one hundred people to die from something that isn't meant to kill?"

"I don't know."

/-/-/-/

/- _**Recorded Around the Same Time **_

"Message sent from: Chamberlain Jean-Luc Riker. Message sent to: Jonathon James Bashir.

"My Mom's crying again. She does that sometimes- just wakes from a dream with tears in her eyes, trembling and pale. Sometimes I wish I knew what she saw in those dreams- those nightmares. I want to know what they know- to understand them better- but at the same time I'm afraid of what can make one of the strongest women I know break down so painfully like that…

"My Gamma never does things like that. I don't think I've ever seen her cry. I wish she would though- anything has got to be better than what she does do. She just kind of stares. She stares with these big, blank eyes. She doesn't see you, she doesn't hear you. I want to know what moment in her life she's reliving, but I don't dare ask. It would just haunt her more…"

/-/-/-/

/- _**Around the Same Time**_

Julian smiled his thanks to the vendor as he handed JJ his jumja stick. His son smirked- it was a rare treat that he truly loved. Julian took his own treat- taffy- and began walking away, habit leading him away towards the far side of the Promenade.

JJ made his way in front of him, a step or two quicker, but Julian kept his eyes on his surroundings. "Da?" Julian looked down at his son at the sound of his name. There was something curious about the questioning tone of his voice and the way his focus was somewhere else.

Julian followed JJ as he lead, three steps ahead, heading for the far window. "Yes?" JJ sheepishly turned and glanced up at his father before looking away, using the action to seat himself on the edge of the window. Julian joined him, gingerly biting at the taffy as he waited for the reply.

"What exactly is your job anyway? I mean, I know you're a doctor so you must be helping wounded people, but… why do you have to go away all the time now?"

Julian could only sigh as he collected his thoughts. "Because," he started slowly, "there are some people out there who are very sick. And we need doctors to try and find a cure for what's wrong with them."

"Well… what is wrong with them?"

"A…" Julian cringed but then quickly relaxed his face, hoping that JJ hadn't noticed the expression. He had already been forced by the war to explain the dangers of phasers, of photon torpedoes, and so many other weapons; Julian had no desire to teach him of another, worse kind. "A disease," he decided on the word, "has been appearing on different outposts and on some ships. It makes some people very sick in their respiratory system and they can't breathe-"

"And they die?"

"Yes."

"And the others- those who don't get sick like that?"

"They… they get sick in their mind."

"Do they die too?"

"No… they just forget who they are."

"Will they ever remember?"

Julian's eyes strayed down to the boy. The jumja stick was running past his bottom lip; his tongue was lapping up the sweet juices threatening to run down his chin. Julian chuckled suddenly- lowly and quietly- when he noticed the red splotch his he somehow managed to get on his nose. "That's what doctors like me are trying to figure out."

JJ nodded, his curiosity seemingly satisfied. He simply continued to suck on the jumja stick.

"It's my birthday in eleven days!"

Julian smirked. Just like JJ to be so random. "I know. And how old are you going to be again? Three? Four?"

"Da!" He could hear JJ rolling his eyes in his voice. He just chuckled at the tone. "I'm turning nine."

"Nine?" Julian sighed. JJ ducked away from his outstretched hand but his father mussed his hair anyway, ruffling long locks of hair into the boy's eyes. "When did you get so old?" JJ just shrugged.

"But don't you have to leave soon?"

Once again, Julian heaved a sigh. It was also so like JJ to link all his thoughts together in his own, unique way. "Yeah. For a few days. But I am going to do my best to be back for your birthday."

He watched as JJ slowly lowered his head and then raised it. It was a nod but it was one of uncertainty. "When are you leaving?"

"Tomorrow."

"Where are you going?"

An awkward smirk pulled at his lips; a half-thought question entered his mind. JJ had not only inherited his mother's curiosity but also her distinct capacity to ask questions until she found that answer. "I am going back to Betazed, you know that."

"Oh… yeah. But you'll be back soon?"

"I am going to try my best." Julian smiled, a sincere and yet joking smile. "And if I can't, then I guess you're just going to have to have a second ninth birthday." JJ laughed at the thought, but Julian could see that his words had relieved his son's worries. Julian reached out a tickled his side, just a light touch to protect from the boy dropping his jumja stick. "Okay?"

"Okay…"

/-/-/-/

/- _**Recorded the Next Day**_

"Message sent from: Jonathon James Bashir. Message sent to: Chamberlain Jean-Luc Riker.

"My da just left this morning. I wish he could stay longer but I know he's got things he has to do. He has orders. I just hope he's back for my birthday. He said, even if he can't make it, that we'll just celebrate my birthday over again. I guess that would raz. You know, better than nothing. But…

"I kind of understand what you're going through now. Your dad's always gone. You never see him. You miss him, but in the end you don't really know him that well and he doesn't really know you. He never seems to be there for the important stuff. His job seems to be more important to him than you. But… but if you just give him some time of day, I think you'll see it in his eyes just how much this is killing him inside. I think you'll see that he wants to be home with you and your sister and your mother, not out on some starship. But that's his duty- and it has been for a long time. My da's the same way. He can't say no because his job is very important, but I know that Ty and mum and I are all much more important. He's just trying to find a way to keep us all safe.

"I wish you could see that. I wish-

"Um… I've gotta go. My mum's calling. She doesn't sound too good.

"Bye."

/-/-/-/

/- _**A Week Later**_

Skeletons were littered about, held together by only the will of their coffins surrounding them. Half withered bodies floated with nothing to keep them still. Scarred bodies waited, more apt to hold themselves still than the others, more apt to wait rather than be healed.

Skeletons laid still, flesh and muscle slowly being attached to their bodies. Bodies, scarred and half withered, waited, healing their own wounds from inside out, the skin waiting for the rest to be healed first.

As much as it seemed like a graveyard- the dying, the decaying, the mangled bodies- it was really the complete opposite. It was an infirmary on a scale starships could enter.

Riker stood at the bow of the transport, stooped over and peering out at the shipyard. The frames of twenty new ships had been constructed in space docks, the beginning of a new wing of the Alpha Fleet. Fifty-three other ships floated throughout the area, their engineers taking advantage of the supplies and the peace to repair their wounds. Several stood waiting their turns for a spot in space dock where more serious wounds could be taken care of.

And, off in the distance, DS9 stood watching over it all, the _Defiant_ docked at her side. He just starred at her for a while- a moment to take his mind off the regeneration of his fleet, off the decrepit feel that the graveyard had in his mind. He wondered at the transformation the station had undergone. It once had been a looming reminder of Cardassian oppression before the Federation had been invited there by the Bajorans- it was then a symbol of alliance and peace. It wasn't long before the discovery of the wormhole had made it a place of unimaginable commerce and the first stop on an endless journey into the next uncharted region. But war had cut its bloody knife through the station's golden days and the station soon became an infirmary, a place where ships could retreat to from Dekari, or Galios, or Talos and expect medical supplies and treatment for their wounded. At some point, perhaps after it had been reclaimed by the Alliance, it had become a space dock. People had retreated there from the same place they had once come with their wounded and expected supplies for their ships, expected help from engineers to repair their ships. Riker wasn't even sure when space docks had begun to be built at the station, but, nevertheless, twelve years into the war, twenty were there.

"Admiral?"

Chief Miles O'Brien's voice caught his attention and he looked back down at the man. It had been far too long since they had last spoken- far too long since O'Brien had left the _Enterprise_ for the promise of an engineering challenge on Deep Space Nine. He had certainly gotten it.

"Yes?"

"Are you ready to go back? Or is there more that you'd like to see?"

Riker turned his yes back onto his ships. "How long until these ships are done?"

"Two weeks, sir."

Riker nodded. In a matter of months, the DS9 space docks would make hundreds of ships, enough- combined with repairing the damaged ones- to bring Alpha Fleet back up to full strength. On the other side of Alliance territory, the Vulcan space docks were building hundreds as well, reviving the tattered Beta Fleet. In months, they would be ready for their next offensive.

"No, Miles, take us back to the station."

"Aye, sir."

/-/-/-/

/- _**Around the Same Time**_

She wasn't supposed to be in that area but she didn't care. She had her own private room; she had a door that led directly to the gardens; she had a nurse who came and escorted her to the cafeteria three times a day. But that wasn't enough.

Everyday, Janeway stumbled her way down the hall to find the new arrives. The ones who hadn't been seen, who hadn't been treated, and who hadn't been placed in a room yet. There were always so many of them.

She slowed as she felt the familiar pressure dissipate. Her doctors called it an aid; she called it a "blind suit". Sensors lined her clothing, producing a complicated system of detecting objects by adjusting the pressure against her skin. It was like someone tapping her when something was near. It had confused her, it had frustrated her, until she had finally learned to understand it.

She turned slowly. They were there, choking down their pain as they lay in their cots lining the hall. She blinked back at the darkness. Vaguely she recognized the shapes of men and women but the return of her sight had been a slow road.

She halted suddenly, taking her time in registering the way the pressure against her thigh had shifted and she knew after a moment that she had come to a stop next to someone's cot. Her eyes travelled down and vaguely she could see the man who was laying on his back. She couldn't make out his uniform nor his rank; she couldn't see what wound had brought him there. She could see that he was lying still, afraid of angering his already throbbing pain.

"Captain?" the man croaked. He sounded young- they always sounded young. She smiled softly and, as carefully as she could, lowered herself onto the edge of the cot.

"How are you feeling?" She couldn't see his eyes but she knew that she was looking into them. She tried not to blink, despite the fact that it had become a natural reaction whenever the darkness had begun to settle in again. She didn't want him to think that his wound was grotesque to her or that his condition didn't concern her.

"I've been better, ma'am."

He shifted then and she blinked desperately, despite knowing that it wouldn't return her vision. She noticed it then; on his shoulder he proudly supported a patch. She couldn't read the letters on it but she knew what it meant. "You're from Epsilon fleet?"

"Yes, ma'am." Janeway nodded slowly. They always seemed to be. "I imagine most of the people here are." She just gave one, curt nod. He was probably right.

"Where are you from?"

"You mean, where I grew up?" She just nodded. She could hear the smile in his voice and, in her mind's eye, she could see it growing across his face. "Vulcan, actually."

His demeanour alone told her that the Vulcan lifestyle hadn't rubbed off completely on him. He wasn't Vulcan himself, but she couldn't see him properly enough to tell what he might be. "Vulcan?"

"Yeah. From age three up until I was assigned to Epsilon fleet." She nodded. She didn't know when it had happened, but Vulcan as well as Betazed had an Alliance Fleet Academy. Quite the opposites.

"You know, a lot of people think that Epsilon fleet is the worst assignment you can get. But you know, it really isn't. It's a good one, an honourable one. It's hard work and gruesome work sometimes, but… we earn whatever victories we get." Janeway could only nod. She looked down and studied his hand for a moment before she reached out and gave it a small squeeze.

"It's that first offensive. Surprise doesn't really cut it. You get slaughtered on the way in, but once you're in, you're probably going to survive to see the next day. See these burns?" She could see the movement of his hand and her eyes followed them. He was pointing to his chest, but she couldn't see them. She nodded anyway. "Got them in the first twenty minutes of fighting." He turned his head, gingerly, until he could see out into the rest of the hallway. "I can see just sitting here ten Epsilon fleet guys. I'll bet any money that they all got hit on the way in."

Janeway looked out too, but her eyes could only spot the vague suggestion of movement and people. She nodded.

"Excuse me, Captain." An orderly's voice caught her attention. She looked up at him but offered him no reply. "We need to move Lieutenant Johnson."

She nodded but looked back to the young man without making any move to stand. Her hand was still on his and she squeezed it again, another soft smile gracing her lips. "You stay strong. I expect to hear about a full recovery."

"Yes, ma'am," he smirked.

Just as carefully as she sat down, she pushed herself off the cot and stood as straight as she could. The orderly just nodded at her and she nodded back. She stepped aside as he moved up the cot. Her brow creased as she watched him activate a small shield around the cot. The orderly activated the hover mechanism and began to steer the young man away, but her thoughts were still on the shield. Her eyes fluttered away, glancing over the faces she could barely see and she wondered why no one had ever thought of it before.

/-/-/-/

/- _**Recorded in April, Three Weeks Later**_

"Message sent from: Chamberlain Jean-Luc Riker. Message sent to: Jonathon James Bashir.

"So we had to do a project on the original Starfleet and the birth of the AF. Total cren, right?

"Anyway, I got stuck researching Epsilon Fleet, which really wasn't that bad. It was kind of raz, actually.

"Did you know that Epsilon Fleet was originally made up of two hundred highly trained officers? Most of them were security guards or spies. Then, in like the first year of the war, the Alliance lost pretty much all of Epsilon Fleet to the Federation. Over a couple of months, their entire purpose changed. Two hundred highly trained officers became eight-hundred thousand tactical officers, all trained in land-based operations. In a year, their numbers increased to two million. Today, they have a constant four million. One fourth of all graduates from the Academy and nearly one half of all enlisted officers will be assigned to Epsilon Fleet.

"They go down to the planet once the Alpha or Beta Fleet think they've pretty much won the battle in space and try to gain a foothold on the planet. That used to be the worst for them because they would loose officers by the hundreds on offensives like that. But a Captain… Captain Janeway, she invented these personal shields for them. They only work for about twenty, thirty minutes- because of power supply and all that- but they're just enough to get a strong hold without loosing anyone. The Epsilon Fleet calls them Janeway Shields.

"Anyway… I thought that was kind of raz…"


	43. Year 15: 2386, continued again

/-/-/-/

/- _**Around the Same Time**_

He shut his eyes as it grew nearer and flinched as he felt it pass through his chest. The sensation lasted only a second; he shivered when it finally ended. He would simply move to another spot rather than sitting there, letting it happen over and over for the past hour, but he had no desire to move. And so he sat there, listening and watching as it came into view and then flinching as it passed through his chest without pause.

Bres shifted his left heel back onto the floor and crossed the right over it. The heels of his hands pushed his butt father back on the console; then his arms crossed over his stomach. He sighed and watched as Jupiter made it back around its orbit. A shiver ran down his spine; his eyes snapped back open.

The whole of Federation territory surrounded him. The Keb system was blue- a sign that it had fallen to the Alliance. The Glintor empire, as well, and even a large part of Hai'di space had been coloured blue. That accounted for nearly a tenth of Federation territory and it expanded along nearly the entirety of the Alliance-Federation border. The Alliance was pushing further and faster and growing stronger with every attack. And, with every attack, they crippled yet another part of the Federation's fleet. Starfleet was limping in retreat.

Earth stood near the far edge of Federation space- it made it obvious that the Alliance was going to keep spreading until it finally surrounded Earth, and would then kill the heart of the Federation. And Manick intended on making that plan as easy and painless as possible for the arriving Alliance fleet.

Bres half listened as he outlined his plan. Both Reggie and Andy and a few others hung around, standing out of the way of the orbiting planets. He shivered again and Manick turned his attention to Bres. It was the ice in his eyes, the stiffness of his jaw, the devilish appearance of his face and clothing- all of it made Bres straighten. Ever since the attack on the Federation shipyard, Manick hadn't been the same. Reggie had tried consoling him often, but he had laid bricks of ice around himself and not even her warm words could melt it.

The hologram of Jupiter had already made another orbit by the time Manick had mentioned the place. "That's our second target. Pluto might be the smaller outpost, but it also has the most contact with the fleet. Jupiter station relays media broadcasts and diplomatic channels. Both are crucial to the smooth running of the Federation and Starfleet."

"You don't want to cut them off simultaneously? Before they know what hit them?"

"I would, but we don't have enough darts for such an attack."

Bres didn't look at him as he spoke about the lost ships. Julia had taken ten with her; only the one had returned and with it came a report too horrifying to digest.

"What about the lunar outpost?"

"Do we really want to hit that one? What if we hurt the population?"

"No… we still take that one out too. The more destruction we cause, the more they have to clean up. It will take months, or at least weeks to get proper communications reconnected to diplomatic and fleet channels. That's all we need."

Bres could still remember the look in Manick's eyes as he listened to the surviving dart pilot. Bres would never have characterized Manick as a jovial man, or even a friendly one, but he had once been capable of emotion. Bres was almost sure that he had lost that that day. Something had flickered in his eyes during that debriefing; something had died that day in his heart.

"And what if Starfleet actually has a little fight left in them? What if it takes more than a month to get here?"

"Yeah. Will destroying a couple of outposts really hurt them bad enough and long enough?"

Reports had appeared on the media that night. Alliance attack ships; a new weapon of mass destruction; tested for the first time on a shipyard. He knew it was all a bunch of lies.

"We should consider getting some of the other sects working in the outer solar systems- have them do the same."

"I'll speak to some of them."

The pilot had detailed the mission- it was going well. The cloak was working well and they were moving undetected into the shipyard. Suddenly three Starfleet ships appeared; at first they just held their breath not thinking much of it. But then something happened. He was too hysterical to make sense at that point. They were dead- that much they understood. Julia and eight others had been killed by an SF ship, not the Alliance but Amen.

"I'm sure they're already planning similar attacks."

"But they'll be more effective if they're planned together."

Questions raced through his mind. How many others had died? How many from war? How many by Amen's hand? How far could the Alliance push into the Federation before their luck ran out? Was Amen's reign finally coming to an end? How much had he really had a hand in it? How horrible was Julia's death? Did she suffer, or was it peaceful, was it quick? Was death in a firefight slow and painful? How would he meet his own end?

"Bres, you're leading the attack on Jupiter outpost. You and Reggie work on the plans. I'll give you more after I talk with the others."

Somewhere through his questions and his musings and his thoughts, he heard Manick's cold tone. He looked, but he didn't see. He just blinked his eyes shut and shivered. Somehow he nodded.

"I think we're done then."

He wondered, too, if Jupiter would be his end.

He watched it round along its orbit, heading for him, threatening to pass by him once again.

He swatted at it as it grew closer, distorting it and yet it didn't pause. He didn't shiver as the photons cut through his body.

/-/-/-/

/- _**August, Three Months Later**_

The ready room's door burst opened; Captain Quinson was already half way out of the door before it had fully opened. Four steps onto the bridge of his ship the _Clarkson_ and he stopped. His eyes caught the far console. Three men hovered around it; it was almost nostalgia looking at it; Ensigns didn't come to his ship any longer who had been trained in the sciences.

Dr. Bashir was the one standing, his hand on the back of the fold out chair and his back bent. On the left, Ensign Reid stood somewhat more rigidly but he was still engaged in their conversation. Quinson could only assume that Dr. Anderson was the one seated.

"Doctor Bashir?"

The man spun around to look for him; his eyes needed only a split second to realize where he was. Anderson hardly looked away from his work and over his shoulder, but it wasn't his name that he had heard and his curiosity hadn't been peaked enough to continue looking. His eyes returned to the console; Julian stood facing Quinson. "Yes, Captain?"

"Could you and Lieutenant Anderson come over here for a minute, please?"

He noticed the look that passed between them. Bashir started across the room but Anderson lagged behind. He spoke briefly to the Ensign near them. Only when the Ensign was sitting in the seat he had just abandoned did Anderson leave his post. Quinson didn't wait for them to reach him before he turned and stepped back into his ready room. Julian stepped through and Anderson followed a moment later.

"There's been another attack."

"Where?"

"A weapon's research facility. It's an outpost located near the boarder."

Bashir nodded. But the motion was stiff, as if the news didn't bother him. "We're heading for it."

"As we speak," he nodded, "We'll be there within the hour. You should get your team prepared." Again, Bashir just nodded. Quinson looked away, but he looked back after he noticed neither had moved to leave. He nodded back to Bashir, knowing that the man was simply waiting to be dismissed. Anderson, too, took the subtle signal as a dismissal. He turned with Bashir, falling in a step behind Bashir. "Lieutenant Anderson?" He noticed the way both of them paused and then looked at each other with that same, wondering glance. Anderson turned full then to look at him; Bashir paused just out of reach of the door sensor. "It's okay. Go ahead, Bashir. He'll be there in a few minutes."

His words were met with another glance. For Bashir, he seemed marginally curious, perhaps even suspicious. For Anderson, it was worry and yet indifference at the same time. Anderson gave a slight shrug and Bashir gave him a slight nod. His eyes flashed back at Quinson and then he left without another word.

Quinson lowered himself into his chair as he watched Anderson take a few uneasy steps from the door. "Yes, sir?

/-/-

"Whose brilliant idea was it to build a weapons' research facility so close to the boarder?" Anderson's harsh voice caught Julian by surprise. He looked over at the man, a single brow raised sceptically.

The day before, they had received orders to board the _Clarkson_ and go investigate the latest B-472 attack. It wasn't until two hours before they beamed in that they had been told anything about the station they were heading to. Julian glanced the man over, wondering at his comment. He realized then, for the first time, just how young Anderson was- or perhaps how old he himself was. "It wasn't exactly erected for the war. It was here before the split."

"How old is this place? It's got to be, what, twenty years old?"

"Try about fourteen."

"Hmm…" Julian looked away, his eyes surveying the damage and talking everything in. "Check over there." He muttered just as he decided to head for the opposite side of the Ops room.

"This guy's dead too."

Julian sent a quick look over his shoulder at Anderson. But then he turned back to the body before him, his fingertips reaching for a pulse as he pulled out his tricorder. It blinked a few times in confusion before showing Julian what had happened to the man. "Their lungs are filled with blood… They suffocated to death."

"Allergic reaction?"

"Probably," he shrugged.

"Death by allergic reaction to an unknown biochemical weapon. What a way to go."

Julian creased his brows at the sarcasm, but he controlled his impulse to look over at Anderson. "Better than ending up like his colleagues."

"Hmm… maybe."

Julian injected the last guy with a transporter microbe before straightening. He watched, making sure that the transporter locked on his signal before following Anderson into the hall. For a time, they merely wandered, sticking their heads inside every door they stumbled upon.

Julian hit the door release to the last door on his side of the corridor. He ducked his head inside, taking a cursory look around before stepping his full body inside. When he still saw nothing, he turned out of it.

"Jeez!" Anderson was standing directly behind him, blocking his exit. "What was that?" Anderson didn't respond; instead he pushed his way past Julian into the room. "What are you doing?"

"The Captain asked me to find any information they had collected." Julian sent a looked down the hall. He couldn't imagine how many more twists and turns they still had to make or how much more ground they had to cover. He stifled a groan as he turned back towards Anderson. He nodded, giving his okay, despite the fact that Anderson was already trying to gain access to the centre console. "It shouldn't take more than a few minutes." Julian nodded gruffly. He crossed his arms over his chest but he didn't move any further from the door.

Julian looked away from Anderson, willing himself to find something to keep him occupied; anything to keep his mind off of how much longer he would have to wonder the station's halls. He looked back over at Anderson and sighed when he saw that he was still working. Again, his eyes sought something to keep them entertained, but found nothing. And soon they were looking back to Anderson.

It wasn't much longer before Anderson peered over his shoulder at him, as if he had felt Julian's bored eyes. "Almost done." Julian bobbed his head, but said nothing. It was a mere few seconds later that Anderson stuck the PADD back into his pocket and shut the console down. "Pretty insane stuff they're working on here."

"Who cares, that's not for us to look at. Just pack it up, and let's leave." Anderson rolled his eyes even as he bent down and picked up his medical supplies. When he looked up, he realized that Julian hadn't left his placed standing in the doorway. Anderson sighed, close to shaking his head at his commanding officer, but then he shifted his pack and walked over to him.

Two steps later, he froze. His eyes searched throughout the room; his ears were perked; he could already feel the adrenaline pounding throughout his system. He watched as Julian reached, jumping farther into the room and out of the way of the closing door. The room shimmered as a protective forceshield formed around the room- only then did the whining alarm cease.

Julian's eyes desperately searched the room before coming to a rest on Anderson. "I didn't do it."

Julian didn't acknowledge the attempt at humour. He just tapped at his chest, waiting for the familiar chirp before he spoke, "This is Bashir. Commander Muller, Lieutenant O'Ryan, what's your situation?

There was a long pause; he held his breathe, waiting. Finally something cracked and the two-way link opened. _"Something's… going wrong…" _Lieutenant O'Ryan gasped for air; Julian's brow furrowed, his mind racing to understand. _"I can't… breathe…" _The link broke suddenly, gracing their ears with an ominous silence.

"_Doctor Bashir… are you all right?"_

"Lieutenant Anderson and I are. We got locked into a… what looks like a sealed testing room, but… the rest of my team is… what's going on out there?"

"_The weapon has… re-released itself into the atmosphere."_

Julian could feel Anderson's eyes on him. He stared forward, letting the words sink in. He couldn't quite process them; he couldn't quite believe what he had been told. Slowly his neck turned, his eyes meeting Anderson's. Somewhere in the words spoken silently between them, was the understanding that they were amazingly safe and that the others had succumbed to one of two horrible fates.

"Can you beam us out?"

"_No, I'm afraid not. You're in a shield area- it's the only thing keeping you safe right now."_

Julian blinked, a million scenarios playing through his head. "How long do you think it will take until the weapon disperses again?"

"_I've never seen this happen before. I have no idea."_

Slowly, he nodded, accepting the Captain's words. "We'll hold still here."

"_We'll keep you updated."_

/-/-

It seemed like a dream lost to the foggy haze of morning. He could hardly recall listening to Manick as fought down the urge to be sickened by the constant annoyance of the holographic Jupiter. Now, instead, he stared, lost in the rows of angry orange bands. But he shook it off, ignoring the looming of the planet, ignoring the tightness of his chest, ignoring every thought that took him away from focusing on the mission.

Without hesitation, he opened his throttle and pitched forward, diving straight for his target. He hardly noticed the way phaser blasts just barely missed him. He barely noticed how photon torpedoes nearly depleted his shields. He just kept barrelling forward and finally opened his phasers on the communications platform. He pulled up just as he passed over it. He felt the shockwave compel him forward.

And there the rest were. Their cover, they all knew, would last only long enough to get them close to Jupiter without being detected. In the time it took most of his pilots to hit the platform once, twenty Starfleet fighters were already in the air.

With a long practiced skill, he pulled the stick to the left, jerking his dart into the fight. At a glance, he recognized Carter's dart. She pulled down but the Starfleet fighter stayed on her tail. Bres pivoted around and got behind the fighter. A few clean shots and he pulled away before the fighter exploded.

Keen eyes caught sight of another fighter looking for another target. Bres had to case him, fighting for the advantage. He rolled around and took a shot, but only managed to knick the fighter's tail. He kept his eyes trained on his target, his finger itching to fire another short burst of phaser fire, but he still didn't have a clean shot and he had already drained his phasers when he attacked the communications platform.

He twisted to stay with the fighter. That was when he first heard it. A pinging sound. The sound of phasers against the haul. He swallowed down the panic that threatened to rise and started twisting in his seat. He groaned- two more were tailing behind him.

He shifted, bringing his eyes front against and activated his heads-up display. He knew somewhere there was a Starfleet fighter hitting him in the side. Two more were on his tail. And there was one right in front of him that he couldn't get a clear shot at.

In a split second decision, he dove. His fighter rattled at the steepness of the dive but he couldn't risk anything shallower. He knew those ships- he flew them for years during his special training. And he knew their worst flaw was their inability to follow a steep dive for long. He could shake them all off in a few short moments.

/-/-

It seemed so pointless to sit there. And yet the alternative was even more so- doubly so as it was giving in to the futile fight.

Julian sighed as he tilted his head back onto the wall. They were sitting there waiting for death, there was no other thing to assume would find them. There would be no rescue, no dramatic but ultimately stupid effort that had once defined his career as a Starfleet officer. Being an Alliance Fleet officer offered no such chances for luck.

"So… about how long do you think we have?" Julian looked over at Anderson; his silence for so long had nearly convinced Julian that he was alone in his own personally hell.

He didn't say anything for a moment. He just blinked and glanced around the room. He blinked again and then, "I'd say less than eleven hours."

"Eleven hours? Where'd you come up with that random number?"

Julian rolled his eyes. He tipped his head back and sighed, struggling to find a way to explain. "You weight about seventy four kilograms?"

"About."

"That means we're breathing in about fifty-five milliliters of air per kilogram per minute. And the volume of the room is a little over twenty-six metres cubed. Assuming the air is about twenty percent oxygen, we have five thousand, two hundred and fifty litres to breathe. Divided by how much we breathe, that leaves us a little under eleven hours of time."

"How'd you do that all in your head?"

He kept his eyes focused on the locked door and shrugged. "It's not that hard."

"So, eleven hours, huh? Shit."

Anderson grew quiet again. Julian could feel the pressure of time pushing down on him. Finally he relented and slid his back down along the wall. His fingers tapped out an odd pattern on his knee. He stopped suddenly; it was an old habit, one that he had broken a long time again. His lungs expanded suddenly and then, slowly, he forced the air back out.

Footsteps caught his attention. Anderson was pacing- reaching the centre console, turning and retreating towards the far wall, then turning and repeating the entire thing again.

"Stop pacing," Julian had looked away from the _repetitive _motion, his eyes instead entranced by his thumb rubbing the back of his hand.

Anderson faltered in his cycle just long enough to look up at Julian and say, "I can't help it. I pace when I get nervous."

"The more you move, the more you breathe. Sit down."

"I don't have to sit down."

"Sit down and shut up; you're wasting air." Anderson didn't bother to hide his scowl from Julian. But Julian, as his commanding officer, held his eyes with his steady gaze. Finally Anderson huffed and collapsed onto the floor across from Julian. Julian watched only long enough to see that he had won the silent battle before retuning his focus to his hands. He just watched as his thumb creased his skin as it traveled up to his knuckle and then did the same thing as it traveled back down towards his wrist.

"So…"

"Stop talking."

"You're talking." Julian flared up at him, but Anderson wasn't looking at him to care. "Besides. I don't care if I die in ten hours or six hours; I'd rather be entertained while I wait."

"There's a large difference between six and ten."

"Yeah, because in those four hours I might be saved." Sarcasm dripped off his words. Julian was no stranger to that sort of arguing- it was the only one Jadzia ever seemed capable of using.

Julian blinked at him, forcing his emotions to stay in check to keep his calm. "It's a long time."

"To sit idle in here? Yeah. To be out they're deciding whether or not to enter this station? No. They're not going to come in here! You know that. We're as good as dead."

"I told you to shut up."

"You afraid to die?"

Julian looked up to find two piercing blue eyes staring back at him. "No. I'm afraid of leaving my sons fatherless."

"You're insane or dead. Like you said before, death is far better." Anderson had tried to hold Julian's eyes longer, hoping to sink his point in even further, but the pain in Julian's eyes forced him to look away. He found himself focusing on a single point, willing the silence to halt their conversation.

And, for a while, it did. But the silence only led to more disturbing thoughts in Anderson's head. He wondered what it would feel like to die at the hands of the weapon. He wondered at the life one could possibly live after being exposed. He wondered how it felt to be conscious, to be aware, but not to think and not to feel. It finally broke him; he looked away and back over at Julian. He wasn't looking at him, but Anderson spoke anyway, "What are your sons' names?"

"What?"

"You said you had sons. What are they're names?"

Julian shifted his weight into the wall. He sighed, and said, "JJ, he's just turned ten, and Ty, he's six."

"They're young."

Julian's brows raised. But, despite the obvious statement, he was forced to nod. "Yeah."

Anderson nodded back. "I almost had a son." Julian just watched him, wondering and yet not caring if he was going to continue. Anderson's focus was on a spot on the floor; Julian wondered if he cared whether or not he was listening. "My fiancé, she… she was pregnant. Um, when she was four months along she requested a transfer to my ship so that I could be there… a week before… before she came, her… she died. She and my son died."

"I'm sorry. I… I can't image what it'd be like." Anderson nodded, though his eyes remained glassy. He rubbed at his cheek, swallowed hard, and then returned his eyes to Julian. "What were you going to name him?"

"Oh, uh… Maxwell. After my great-grandfather. He, um-" Julian's cry startled Anderson. He froze, his mouth half opened with his next words. His eyes grew wide and his hands reached out to brace himself as the floor rocked him forward. His body twisted with the rocking of the floor; his face cringed with the sudden sensation of pain burning his shoulder.

"What the hell?" he muttered, one hand checking his shoulder, the other pushing him off the floor. He looked over to Julian; he was slowly sitting back up, a bloodied hand on his forehead.

"I don't know."

"_Bashir? Anderson? Are you two all right?"_

Anderson looked to Julian for a reaction. He blinked and rubbed at his eye with his clean hand, tapping on his commbadge with the other. "We're fine. What happened?"

"_The station was attacked at some point- most likely before the weapon was released. It has sustained massive structural damage that we didn't notice before."_

Anderson grunted his dissatisfaction as he leaned back into the wall, grunting in pain when he felt the metal against his bruised shoulder. Julian was still talking with the Captain, but Anderson tuned it out. He titled his head back, his eyes naturally rising to look at the ceiling. Then they rolled back, finding where the wall met the ceiling. He could tell something was wrong with what he saw, but he couldn't place the problem. His head tilted to the side, but he eyes didn't move from what they were looking at. A piece of the bulkhead had shifted and was protruding through the shield. The shield shimmered around it, but the seal had been broken.

"Shit. Shit, shit, shit… Bashir!"

"What?" Julian asked back but Anderson chose not to respond. He just continued to look up and soon Julian's eyes were following. "Oh hell… Captain, we have a problem. The bulkhead has breached the protective shield around the room-"

"What's that hissing?" Julian looked back. A wisp of white had slithered around the bulkhead, creeping its way into the room. A wall of white had grown behind the shield, bumping against it and causing the shield to shimmer continuously.

"_Bashir? What's happening in there?"_

"The… it's entering the room."

Anderson had sprung to his feet at some point and was backing away from the ominous sight. Julian could hear his ragged breathing as he gasped for air, "It's seeping in. We're going to die."

"We're not going to die," he hissed. His eyes widened as he watched the vapour. Whiteness clouded over the once grey wall, now sharing the same side of the shield as they did. The shield continued to shimmer in a desperate attempt to block its spread, but the effort was futile as more still made it through.

"No. We're going to become psychopathic! Unless, of course, we're allergic."

"Calm down."

"Calm down!"

"Shut up!"

"Shut up? Shut up! There's a deadly toxin seeping into the supposedly safe chamber that we can't escape from and you want me to calm down!?"

"Yes. It's worth the risk to lower the shield and beam out."

"We're already infected! We're dead."

"Then at least they can chart what happens."

"You want to be a science project?"

"It's better than staying here."

Anderson's eyes flashed back to the gas. Already it was clouding the entire corner, and soon it would begin to expand into the centre.

/-/-

An alarm blinked up in the corner. He didn't look at the alarm; instead, he looked all around him, twisting and turning in his seat as he tried to find a target.

He noticed a dart to his left. Lieutenant Laurie pitched to the left and then to the right. He arched up and then dipped back down. He did everything he could to shake the Starfleet fighter behind him.

Bres hit his throttle, flying dead on towards the enemy fighter's nine o'clock. Then, at the last minute, he aimed his phasers just in front of the fighter and opened up. The fighter ripped apart as it passed him.

A second alarm shattered Bres' victory. His head shot around and another Starfleet fighter was coming up behind him. He pulled up and tried to climb away, but the fighter countered his move. He banked left and somehow managed to get around the enemy fighter. He fired a burst, but missed.

The Starfleet officer twisted away from him, pulling his fighter into a tight turn. Bres followed behind him, gritting his teeth, desperate to stay behind him. The turn grew tighter and he took a chance; his fingers tapped ferociously at the phasers and he sighed as one nicked the Starfleet fighter on its butt end.

Suddenly, a plan occurred to him and Bres pulled up. He shook off a moment of dizziness at the sudden reversal and began pulling hard, pushing his fighter into an impossibly tight curve.

It had been a while since he had flown one of those Starfleet fighters, but he could remember every weakness and every strength it possessed and he was willing to bet that if they hadn't given it better diving capacity, then they hadn't given it a better climbing capacity.

Bres kept climbing. He held his breath as he nosed over, his fighter flipping over and his sights coming to rest on where the Starfleet fighter should be. If his plan worked, the fighter would be twisting out of control. It would be vulnerable.

But it wasn't.

He didn't have time to think as he watched the Starfleet fighter angled itself. He didn't have time to breath as he watched what was about to occur. He didn't have time to watch his life flash before his eyes as the phasers activated. He didn't have time to whisper goodbye as he felt the calming lull of silence shatter around him.

/-/-

It was a dry kind of burn. One that begged to be rubbed at and itched. One that made a person blink repeatedly in hopes that a single tear might form to alleviate it just slightly. Anderson squeezed his eyes together hard. Finally he submitted and reached his hand up to rub the irritation away.

But his hand never reached his eye; Julian's fingers had curled around his wrist and pulled it down. "You'll just aggravate it."

Anderson nodded and lowered his arm. Instead he just blinked faster, his eyes fluttering almost none stop. "How do we shut down the shield?"

Julian nodded over to the console Anderson had used earlier. He walked over to it; the white vapour caught his eye. It was already pooling around the floor. Quickly, he keyed in his access code and the console glowed with life. The vapour began to twist around Julian's feet, holding him there. His shoulders shook as his entire body coughed. He felt the same temptation to itch his eyes, but he resisted and blinked rapidly, batting away the invisible and unavoidable enemy. He coughed it away, but that only made it hurt more. He could feel his lungs becoming inflamed and his chest constricting around his pained lungs.

"_Clarkson_… beam…" Another cough shook his body. He sucked in air and then, his voice hoarse, "Beam us into an isolated chamber."

It felt as if the breath had been taken from him. He felt his body tense, becoming immobilized. The room darkened and for a moment he felt at peace in a void of everything.

But chaos returned and with it, pain seized his body. Air rushed to his lungs; his face contorted into an ugly grimace. Sounds confounded his ears, light confounded his eyes. He was still blinking away the vapour, still trying to cough it out of his lungs, when he felt the pressure on his back leading him into the corner.

It wasn't until he was seated that he finally felt steady enough to look up. Doctor Salizhan was standing over him, a tricorder running over the length of his body. It was a sluggish motion that turned his head to the side. Lieutenant Wong was standing before Anderson, a tricorder in hand, and shaking her head at Sal. Julian forced his eyes even further to the side. Anderson didn't look good. His face was pale; his eyes were drooping; a hacking cough was shaking his entire body.

A cold shock startled him. Sal was putting a monitor on his chest. He looked away in time to see Anderson beamed away. He looked down; he didn't want to think about what was going to happen to him.

Sal forced a smile. Julian watched as her lips began to tell him not to worry, but she stopped herself, and said instead, "Is there anything I can get you?"

Julian sighed. "Not unless you can give me a cure."

Sal sighed. She just shook her head, slowly. Hereyes dropped, but he could still see the pity she was trying to hide from him. "Right. Ah… Could I get a PADD? I'd like to write to my wife… before I can't put a coherent sentence together."

She looked back up, a smile plastered on her lips. Sal twisted around and waited for a nurse to pass a PADD through. Julian smiled his thanks but Sal didn't look at him. He looked down, twirling the PADD in his hands as he waited for her to beam out and leave him alone in the shielded room.

He could feel the world around him becoming dulled; he could feel himself becoming detached. He could only stare down at the blank screen, wondering how long he would have to put his final words together.

"Jadzia… I know you said not to go and, in this very moment, I wish I never had. I don't… I don't regret what I tried to do and what help I might have brought to this project… I regret walking into that room, walking onto that station. I regret letting people talk me into not pushing protective gear on missions… I wish you could hold me in your arms right now. It would sure make me feel better. I wish I could kiss you one last time. I wish I could hold JJ and Ty one last time; tell them one last story; play with them one last time. The last time I was there, I couldn't have known that it would be my last chance for all that…

"Um," Julian sighed, rubbing at his eyes, "I wanted to say a few things to the kids. Um…

"Hey, JJ… I don't know what to say. I'm sorry. I'm sorry that I'm leaving at this pivotal point in your life. I'm sorry that I failed you… I'm sorry… I need you to be strong for your mother. This is going to be hard on her; you're the man of the family now. Help her out, keep an eye on Ty for her, just… I'm sorry that I'm making you grow up so fast.

"I never really noticed that I was learning as I grew up, but you do, and I know that you are too. Everything your parents do, you learn something. I learned a lot from my father, things I wish that you could have learned from me. I guess, right now the only thing I have left to teach you… is to live. Live your life. Don't let what other people think or do impede what you really want. I hope that maybe I have, in this little time that I've known you, taught you something… I love you…"

"Ty, my little boy. I don't think your mum is going to show this to you just yet. I don't know how long she'll wait, but I know that no matter how long she does wait, I've already missed a lot. I wonder how much you've grown. I wonder how much you've done and seen. I wonder what your current interest is. What skills and talents do you have lying dormant? I wish I had had the time to get to know you; I wish I had the time now to tell you all about myself so that you could at least get to know me. But I don't… So I'll leave you with this… I love you and I never meant to leave you. I chose the job I did, but I didn't choose the fate that found me. I miss you already. I hope you can forgive me for leaving. I love you…"

/-/-

"Jadzia… When I proposed all those years ago, I had so many plans. I had thought that the war would be over by now. I had planned to have children, to watch them grown into men… or women, if that had been the case. I wanted to teach them all those things fathers teach their sons. Like how to shave, things about girls… JJ seemed to be getting interested in medicine. I don't even know what Ty might be interested in- he's too young. I wanted to see them get married. I wanted to see my grandchildren… I wanted to see the end to this damn war… I had really wanted to take the boys to see Earth and to see the ocean. I had planned on taking them down to Bajor, at least, and walking along the beach…

"We had talked about some much… All I can ask, Jadzia, is that, even without me, they still get to do it all… I love you so much, you and the boys…"

He wasn't supposed to be listening; his mother had sent him to his room. But JJ stood there, leaning against the doorway, listening to his father's voice echo off the walls. He sounded sick- his voice was hoarse and sluggish. JJ couldn't help but imagine his always strong father lying pale and in agony, his eyes drooping in the exhaustion of pain, his breathing laboured. It was a horrible final imagine to replace one of confidence and strength.

He couldn't bear to look up and see his mother. He had noticed over the past year how worried she was; how much it pained her to think of him on some distant planet, taking dangerous missions and risking his life. JJ wanted to hate him for it, but he couldn't. He had seen how that kind of hatred had eaten Chamberlain up inside.

He dared to glance up at her. She was just sitting there, completely still. She was staring ahead, but he could tell that she wasn't seeing. Her chest rose and fell irregularly, occasionally stopping for just too long. A couple of short strands of hair had fallen from her tight hair tie. They fell into her eyes but she didn't move to tuck them behind her ear as she normally did. He looked away; he couldn't take the sight of his mother slowly breaking down in front of him. But for whatever reason, his eyes were drawn back to her. Maybe he hoped that the sight would change- and it did. Her hands were trembling and the PADD fell to the floor. Tears were streaming down her cheeks; he had never seen her cry before.

His nose twitched and he rubbed at it, feeling the moisture on his face for the first time. He sniffed and rubbed his face dry.

"JJ?" He sniffed again; his eyes rose sheepishly to find hers. She didn't say anything; she just whipped her cheek with the back of her hand, holding the other one out to him, beckoning him into her arms to find some comfort. JJ sank into her body, letting her arms enfold him, resting his face into her chest. Her fingers played with his hair and her hand drew lazy patterns on his back and he could almost pretend that he hadn't heard his father's message.

"What's going to happen now?"

"Your Da will stay on Betazed where there are doctors to help him."

"Will we go see him?" He heard his own voice and wondered at the nervous tremor in his voice. He honestly didn't want to hear either possible answers. "Will he ever get better?"

"I don't know… I honestly don't know."

/-/-/-/

/- _**Recorded The Next Morning**_

"Message sent from: Jonathon James Bashir. Message sent to: Chamberlain Jean-Luc Riker.

"You know that disease- those patients that your mother works with? I told you that that's what my da's been working on too…

"He was infected yesterday with it…

"My mum explained that it messes up the brain and no one can figure out how to fix it. He doesn't know who he is or who we are…

"I've always wanted to be a doctor like my da. I had always just assumed that he'd be around to teach me…

"I'm going to fix my da… or at least everyone else that's sick like him."

/-/-

... well, something had to happen. Poor JJ and Ty and Jadzia. :(


	44. Year 15: 2386, one final time

**Author's Note: **Well, this is the last one. Thanks to everyone who's stuck it out and made it through this long road! A special thanks to Zara08 and Lilith Kayden for all their reviews and kind words of support! And, of course, an extra special thanks to Nightwitch who has been there since the beginning by first convincing me to finish this story! I hope you enjoy the last few pages as much as you have all the rest!

/-/-/-/

/- **_A Week Later _**

It was a grotesque looking thing. The design was sleek, small, and was even coloured a soft cream in an attempt to blend into the skin. It wasn't the design or the feel of it. It wasn't even how awkward someone looked while wearing it. It was what the thing represented.

Riker looked down at the mask he held in his hand. It formed over the nose and mouth; a dermal recognition allowed it to adhere to the skin in seconds. It represented death; it represented an old fear being renewed. One doctor had already died investigating the disease; three more had not died in body but their minds were gone forever. Four lives that would never be restored- lives that never needed to be lost.

Riker tossed the mask down onto his desk. He didn't the added pressure of those thoughts.

Just standing there, thoughts crossed his mind. He could see the fate that awaited him. It was a bothering thought; it was bothering that he had grown to accept the possibility.

He looked out at his bridge crew and out at the ships following his. How many thousands of souls were out there? So many were willingly walking into what may be their last hours. It was an even more bothering thought that he had led them to that; it was more bothering that they all were equally as indifferent to their fate as he.

But the worst was not the souls he could see around him, they were the ones in his mind's eye. In there, he saw the devastation of an entire fleet and the death of an old friend. It was the most bothering experience to have those thoughts weigh on his mind; it was far more bothering to know that they had all long ago accepted their fate, just as the others had.

"_Admiral." _

Riker didn't need to respond to Bryon's hail. He glanced at his mask; he didn't move to pick it up. Byron was looking at him as he stepped out. Riker had once been fascinated at the way he merely had to think an order or inquiry and Bryon would immediately react. That novelty had worn off years ago.

Byron nodded at his thoughts. "That was Captain Data. They have won the battle. They are currently securing control over Vigo."

"Epsilon Fleet meeting any resistance on the surface?"

"Some, but nothing their personal shields can't handle."

"Very good."

It was a weight that was shoved off his chest. Dozens of obsessivethoughts could be thrust from the front of his mind. But it wasn't enough. Still he was disturbed by all the probable scenarios that still faced them. He looked around himself. They surrounded him. He was haunted by living ghosts.

He looked around his bridge and he saw them- looking emptily at their consoles. Fear made their hands tremble; anxiety made them shift constantly in their chairs; acceptance kept them quiet.

He looked out of the viewscreen and he saw hundreds of thousands of ships looking back at him. He saw their caskets trembling with fear for them.

And just coming into view was their graveyard. Trill hovered peacefully, innocently. Soon it would claim more lives.

/-/-/-/

/- _**Around the Same Time**_

What he noticed first was the strips of blue. Redswirled around them, overtaking them. A hint of purple accented the red.

To his left, a man spoke loudly, obnoxiously, in a slurred voice, his tongue overestimating his ability to speak coherently. The bartender laughed at whatever the man had tried to say. But Ken didn't hear; his focus was on the drink in his hand. It struck him suddenly, and only for that short time, that both things were centered around Amen: the barkeeper and the man foolishly debating a world of politics that they could not control and an Arone'an drink that resembled too closely an unfinished painting.

"How 'bout you, mate?"

With his eyes so intent on the vision before him and his mind so fixedly trying to conjure a mental imagine of that same painting, he scarcely recognized the message sent by his ears. At first he didn't react to the Brit's words; at first he didn't realized it was his opinion that they sought. Sluggishly, as if the alcohol had affected him so greatly, he turned his head to look at them. He looked but there was no recognition in his eyes.

"What d'you think 'bout President Amen?"

Ken shrugged, intrigued but not overly interested in the conversation. "In what regard?"

"Well let's start with the fact that he shoulda been out of office a couple of years ago."

"Yeah." The barkeeper nodded, "Any person who rides nearly an entire term without being elected and then gets re-elected is okay by me. Getting elected for a "second" term is all right, I guess. I mean, assuming they did all right the first time around- not that he did, eh. The war hasn't done his popularity much good."

"We had just won a series of major battles around then." Ken's words came easily from his mouth, an off-handed remark installed years before. The cool rim of his glass met his lip and he paused to consider his words.

"Yeah, well, that's fine and dandy but, what I wanna know," the man said, leaning closer. Ken wondered if there was some secret to be told; but if it was about Amen, it would be no secret to him. "Is how he stayed in office? His second term was up a while ago."

Ken kept the glass up close to his mouth, though not poised for him to drink from it. Slowly he forced air past his lip; his fingers felt the warmth. The glass came to his lips, the last of the liquid spilling past them. His eyes followed the glass until it hit the counter. He wished it was that easy to get rid of Amen's painting. "There's a clause in Earth's constitution stating that the President, during certain circumstances- like times of war- can remain in office until the problem has been resolved."

"So you're saying that he alone decided that he could remain in office 'til this war's over?"

"Well, Congress approved it as well. But… yeah, basically."

"What the hell's that?"

The barkeeper snorted. "Yeah well… What about the Federation? Don't think it's ever been a secret that Earth has run the show for a while."

"It's a dictatorship, that's what we're living under now."

Ken couldn't look at the man. He could only shrug and then nod. "Yes, it is." He tapped at his glass; the barkeeper filled it back to the brim.

"How'd you know all that stuff about the constitution anyway?"

Ken held his glass up level with his eyes. Staring down into it, he didn't look at them as he thought; he didn't think about them as he thought. The liquid flowed past his lips, burning his throat as he gulped down the entire glass. The glass clanked against the counter; his hands followed it, spreading flat on the counter to push him off the high stool. "I work for the government."

The cold hit him in waves as he stepped out of the bar. It was late-October and not even the little village of Clifton, England was spared. He didn't live there, he lived in a large city back in British Columbia, Canada, but Europe was his escape from recognition, from questions, from stress and pressure.

It was never the same place, never twice, but he never failed to meet someone who wanted to talk with him. Many conversations had fallen to politics and many of those led to Amen. He wasn't a hated man but he wasn't a loved man- though Ken was certain he was deluded enough to think such a thing about himself.

It was late and the line for the transporter was thankfully short. He was never beamed directly into his home, as many others were; he instead always found himself three blocks away. He preferred to walk, or so he told himself.

As he walked, his feet walking by memory and not commanded, his mind collapsed into late-night musings. He had expected, even prepared himself for Amen's reaction when they lost Vigo and Trill- on the same day, only adding to the insult of the event. But Amen had treated him as if he had been solely responsible. And the Sklig Ntsar had become even more aggressive with their methods, enraging Amen and making Ken's job even harder. But it wasn't just these two things that had done it. It wasn't a mystery that the Alliance Fleet was going to continue their push into Federation territory. It wasn't a mystery to Ken that the Federation was going to loose, it was just a matter of time, nothing else.

Documents hovered precariously on top of an old box. But he paid them no heed and they toppled off, scattering all around his feet. Ken stood over his safe, protected from sight by the enclosed back room. Setting the box on top of the safe, he used the knuckle of his index finger to unlock the box and then lifted the lid up with both hands. He paused for a moment after he did so, looking in and observing it for a moment. His hand shuddered when he moved to pick it up, but then it was in his hand and he was pulling the sheath off, allowing the sleek blade to shine after being exposed to the soft light. It was a fantasy, of some kind, one he knew he would never live out. But some days it comforted him to know that it was there, to know the foolish protection he had once sought could still be of some use.

He sighed, content for the moment to return the dagger to its secure home. He wondered, but he never dreamed that it would one day come to be.

/-/-/-/

/- _**September 14, One Month Later**_

It was an old tradition, one that he imagined had been passed down for hundreds of years. There had been dark moments when Picard had still been Captain and Riker would wonder where his mind was as he paced through the ship's decks. Riker had wondered often how that could comfort the man; many years ago he had discovered his answer.

Riker couldn't pinpoint when he had developed the same habit- perhaps not long after he had taken command of _Enterprise_. But as he turned into the Ten Forward, he paused in his rhythmic patterns. Jack smiled at him from behind the bar- he knew Riker's patterns just as well as Guinanhad always been of Picard's.

It was his habit to walk the length of the room, pause at the bar but not drink or even say much of anything, and then turn back and move onto the next deck. But something interrupted that pattern. Something about the group of young cadets in the front captured his attention. There were seven of them- two females, five males, and all of them young.

He was that age once. He had had dreams; dreams to be someone and something. He had never once thought that those dreams would ever be crushed. But looking at those kids, he wondered what their dreams were. Did they have any? Or was their only dream to survive that day. To survive to dinner. To survive to see their next R and R.

And he wondered, for the first time, if that was what his own children dreamed for. Did they dream of an end to this war? Or were they too unfamiliar with peace to wish for it?

"How old are you, Ensign?" The Cadet looked startled. It wasn't because of the way Riker addressed him, for as young as he looked, he had probably been called by the title for months if not a year. No, he was startled because none of these young children expected their last hours of downtime to be interrupted by him. Because none of them had seen him and snapped to attention. They all tried to, but he waved his hand at them, shaking his head as his one had gently kept the cadet seated.

He glanced over at the rest of his friends- all third year cadets like him; all the same age as him- before his eyes met his Admiral's. "Seventeen, sir."

Riker nodded. He was hardly more than a year older than Liz; hardly more than a child. "How old were you?" he whispered, not meaning to voice his musings.

"When I joined, sir?"

Riker glanced up at him, shaking his head. "No, sorry… How old were you when the Federation split?"

The Cadet's eyes rolled to the side, counting the years. "Well… about five, sir. I think. I don't remember much."

Riker just nodded. The cadets looked at him, shifting uncomfortably under his distracted gaze. One of them finally looked away from their Admiral. The boy wet his lips, leaning his elbows against on his knees, and began to restart the earlier conversation.

Riker didn't listen. He had turned away from them, his eyes surveying the rest of Ten Forward. It wasn't quite like it had once been- the bustling place of parties, chess games, gossip, and late night rendezvous. It was now a place to escape from the tedious demands of life. A place for one night stands, drunken evenings, and late night relation.

"Yeah, well… I don't really care about killing them…"

"Oh come on, after all the family you've lost?"

The Cadet shrugged and Riker finally looked back over at them.

"Had I gone through all that, I'd want to kill them all."

Riker sighed as he looked at them. They had been so young the last time they had been members of the Federation- it was doubtful that even one of them in the group could remember anything of the experience. The Federation had always been their enemy and, ever since they were young, they had learned- through media, through older friends, through bad experiences- to hate that enemy. They had learned a history too foreign to believe or imagine; one too abstract for the mind. He could tell them stories of the days when he had been a Starfleet officer, a member of an elite class of explorers, a leader in a world that preached freedom, advancement of person, and scientific discovery. He could tell them about his experiences, he could tell them about peace, he could tell them about Earth, but none of them would understand. War was all they knew.

He wished that he could teach them that Starfleet wasn't a horrible, brutal enemy. He wished that he could explain the legacy it had once had. He wished that he could teach them to respect that legacy, and the name. But he knew how they clung to that hate, to those vague understandings of war, to be able to fight. How could they kill without that anger? Anger was all they had for there no longer seemed a purpose beyond retribution. He wanted to explain how once there was a reason, there was a noble reason for a just up-rise. But how does one explain that year long pain? How does one explain to them how difficult it was for people to declare loyalty to one side or the other? How hard it was to fire those first shots? They never knew such a pain, such a heart ache. The Federation had always been their enemy, how could he tell them that once it hadn't been like that?

He looked around him and he saw great minds. He saw the potential for doctors, for engineers, for great leaders in a time of peace. But there was no peace, no way for their potential to bloom as it should have. He looked at them and he wondered what would have come of them. In peacetime, Starfleet's numbers were barely half of what Alpha Fleet alone was. Civilians made names for themselves, with research, with politics, with medicine, with art, music, and architecture. All of it, save perhaps politics, had faltered. Nearly every child born seemed destined to join and fight and almost certainly die. He looked at those faces and saw young men and women who had decided when they were still too young to understand, when they were still seduced by the glamour and glory of such a calling, when they were too young to know about the less glamorous side of the war. He stood there and he wondered, what would have become of them had he not fired on those ships all those years ago. Had President Amen not risen to power? Had all those things that had gone wrong hadn't, where would those young people be?

/-/-

There were hundreds of little sounds that every officer aboard a starship became familiar with. There was an intimacy in being able to hear the most obscure and unnoticeable and even insignificant of sounds.

At any given time, there were at least three soft taps of the pad of someone's finger depressing a button. Someone was always pacing, someone was always shifting their weight, someone was always ruffling the material of their uniform as they reached for a control or stood or paced.

He could pick Byron out of all the sounds. Riker assumed it was mostly from knowing him longer than the rest of his bridge officers. There was a certain lightness to his step- he was trained in ancient Betazoid poise and grace. His chair gave a familiar creak to it whenever he sank into it as well.

He could even imagine that other things made sound. The humming of the warp core; the hissing of the forceshield; the sizzling of the phasers; the groaning of the photon torpedoes. He was never entirely convinced that he wasn't hearing it.

But there was something about the tension on the bridge that made everything sound louder, more vibrant. It was as if the tension acted as the perfect amplifier.

And the sudden, and yet not unexpected sight muted it without warning.

Riker stood awkwardly, hovering just behind his Ops officer, his eyes unwavering from the foreign sight. Earth. Had it truly been over a decade since he had been so close? Had it truly been fifteen years since he had been welcomed there?

Even the words from his own mouth could not seem to reach his ears before they had lost their volume.

And then, equally without warning, fear replaced tension. Tension could amplify sounds, but fear exploded them, making them echo in the deepest crevices. He might not be sure if his ship actually made any sound, but when fear took hold of the senses, it certainly seemed to make some of the most hideous sounds.

/-/-

"I've never actually killed anyone."

The hushed confession startled him. Andy looked over at his long time friend and accomplice in the Sklig Ntsar. Reggie stood awkwardly against the hard wall. He wondered if she was trying to hid from Manick or what they were about to do. He glanced over at the others, all mulling about, wasting nervous energy as they waited, before he stepped closer to her.

He didn't say anything; there was nothing for him to say. She looked at him, her eyes were wide but he wouldn't characterize what he saw as scared or even nervousness. There was almost a peacefulness to them that he found eerie.

"It's been a game all these years." He just kind of nodded. It had certainly been some ride, that he wouldn't argue with. "We get some half-baked scheme in our heads and run off half-cocked, break in, break out, no worse for wear. Nothing but an adrenaline buzz and a little something to keep the boss happy."

He just smirked at her, the way she so calmly and so easily degraded all the hell they had gone through over the past decade. They had lost people to their mindless frolicking. And she knew that, just as painfully as everyone else there.

"You've killed people before, haven't you?"

Andy just nodded. "Not because I wanted to."

"What does it feel like?" she asked a moment later, her voice timid. Her weariness wasn't a concern for the ghosts that haunted him; it was just Reggie's way of trying to sound like she wasn't so desperate for an answer. Andy could only sigh and look away. He had no answer. She slouched against the wall even more, putting as much weight against it as she could without sliding to the floor.

"Do you miss him?"

Their eyes meet, dark eyes trying desperately to see into the pain of her bright ones. He sighed, running his hand through his growing dark locks. When had the rebellious days of spiked and dyed hair lost to a more conservative look?

"Bres?" She merely nodded. And he shrugged. "Yeah… I keep expected to see that smug face around every corner… All I can think is that… wherever he may or may not be, he's gonna be pissed that he's missing out on the big one."

Reggie laughed at that. And Andy was right. She could imagine those cool dark eyes, glowing with that smug smirk as he leaned up against some table, arms crossed over his chest and his right heel resting on the left, annoyed as he watched the AF surround Earth with them fighting the SF on the ground. She knew that he had looked forward to that day- planned for it even. There was a stash of Romulan ale hidden in his room for the day they finally won the war. She wondered if she would get it when the day was over. She wondered if she'd be alive when the day was over.

A sudden stillness throughout the room caught their attention. Reggie's next words faded from her mind as she watched Manick silently gather his people around him. She straightened but didn't move away from the wall. Andy turned to see his friend and leader, but he didn't move away from her. Something about Manick radiated a cool confidence. He was cocky enough to think that, after years of careful planning, they would single-handedly win against the SF. Andy wasn't so sure, but he let the others believe. He let them believe in Manick and in a cause they had fought for, and in the hope that this might be the last day of bloodshed. He didn't believe it, but that didn't mean that they couldn't.

/-/-

It took eight photon torpedoes to take out one weapons platform. It took ten ships and a lot of time to destroy the moon's automated defensives. It took a lot more to rid Earth of hers. Earth held four times as many weapon satellites and a fleet of ships.

All of a sudden the Sklig Ntsar's recklesslittle plan to knock out defensive on Pluto, Jupiter, and Mars didn't seem like such an insignificant victory.

When he heard about uprisings throughout Europe, Asia, and the Americas, he was thoroughly convinced that they were all insane. But whatever worked. Whatever the price…

/-/-

The place was already in chaos. The Sklig Ntsar had their own ground troops pounding the Consulate. The once pristine white was charred; the ancient architecture was falling to shambles.

Ken's feet faltered as another photon blast hit the building. His feet shook in sync with the ground and his hand reached out to grab the wall to steady himself. But that only made it worse. Pain surged through his arm and he snatched back his hand, cradling his bleeding palm against his chest. Ken quickened his pace; he needed to find the President and they needed to get out of there.

It might have surprised him years ago to find Amen just standing in the centre of his office, paint brush in hand. But not that day. Not after years of watching the once brilliant mind deteriorate.

"Mr. President!"

"Oh, Ken, there you are, my boy. Come here. Come here."

"No, Mr. President. We have to leave. Now!"

Amen didn't seem fazed by Ken's urgency. He kept his eyes focused, his mind occupied in a land of its own.

"Oh calm yourself, boy."

Ken pulled the paintbrush from his hand, letting it fall carelessly to the floor. "We have to leave."

"I'm not finished with my painting yet."

"Yes you are… Whatever the hell you've been painting for all these years isn't that important."

"Oh but it is." The mad gleam in Amen's eyes scared Ken. He had seen him in moments of lucidity, of insanity, and of every level between but never before had he seen the President so far gone from reality. He had to look away. "Look at it." And Ken did as ordered, if only to look at something but Amen. It was almost completely red and black now. Beneath it, he could see years of layers of blue and green, of purple and even some white, but now they were hidden from sight but the darkness and boldness of the first two colours.

"I had such great dreams for my empire," Amen said softly. Ken made to look at him but thought better of it; the movement looked more like a child flinching away from something frightening. "It's all gone now."

Ken latched onto the hope that Amen understood that they were in danger remaining there. "We need to leave, sir. Please, before it gets too dangerous." Amen shook his head, slowly at first. "Mr. President-"

"I have to finish my painting." And before Ken could stop him, he was picking up the discarded paintbrush and returning to his manic strokes. There was nothing Ken could do. Ken knew that he couldn't stay or he would be captured but Amen wouldn't leave. He was beyond help, beyond knowing reality from his warped mind. There were ways of solving that.

/-/-

He couldn't have described the feeling if someone had given him all the words in all the languages surrounding him.

Surreal, perhaps, described a small portion of it.

There was Earth before him. Just sitting there, spinning delicately on its axis, completely uncaring and unknowing of the battle raging around it- the battle raging for it. He had seen that same sight nearly every night when he went to bed- the gorgeous sight of the deep blue oceans and the dark blotches of land that made up his home. He had waited for that moment since the day he had watched the convoys of Humans leaving Betazed and the transports of aliens crowding their way out. He had waited for that moment since the day the first shots had been fired. He had waited for that moment since the day he had first ordered a fleet into battle.

Victorious was another word.

As the words left his throat and he ordered the Epsilon fleet down into the streets of Earth. He had heard Captain Griffin say before that to win the planet was to win the space it owned. Certainly, to win the planet Earth was to win it all. He could only imagine the chaos that was wrecking havoc in the streets down there. He could only imagine what the Sklig Ntsar had in store for the planet. But, whatever that condition was, he trusted Captain Griffin to secure the planet for them.

Anticlimactic was perhaps the most over powering impression he had of the entire affair.

He saw the way their firing had died down. He saw the way they fought without heart as the battle neared the end. He couldn't help but wonder if they were just tired, if they were ready for the war to be over just as much as he was. He couldn't help but wonder if they had simply calculated the risk and realized that giving in would be less painful than loosing for real.

Or, perhaps, no matter how hard they were really fighting, no matter how gruesome the reality of the battle actually was, maybe he couldn't see past the fact that they were actually, finally winning back Earth. Maybe that was what felt so anticlimactic.

/-/-

Ken could still remember the day that he had chosen to become a diplomat. He could still remember the day that he had started as a fresh, eager young intern serving under one of Earth's finest. Amen had been a young man and a senator in the World's Congress. It had been a long twenty-five years of working with and for him; Ken had learned a lot. Many tips, many lessons, many strategies. But none seemed more vivid than the one Amen had forced him to employ several times over in the past two decades. None more important than the one he had learned to employ for himself.

He held the weight in his hand, feeling its power, feeling its danger. He could only stare down at the object he had hidden in his office for years. Cautiously, almost awkwardly, Ken adjusted his jacket, pulling it tighter around his waist to hide the knife.

A distant echoing rang throughout the hallway. The heavy crashing of officers running. Ken spared them only a glance when they called to him, warning him of the danger. Had his mind been clearer, he might have yelled back to them. He might have berated them for their obvious stupidity. But as it was, a stillness had fallen over his thoughts, preparing him for what he was planning.

It had been some time since Ken had been a green intern. A long time since he roamed the halls of the Senate house, lost both in the labyrinth of hallways and in his own trepidation of meeting his mentor. That very first day Amen had begun to teach him. Taught him to watch his words as carefully as he watched his back. He taught him that both enemies and friends had uses to be exploited, but as soon as one lost that use to be manipulated, they were useless. And once anything became useless, it was trash to be discarded.

"Mr. President?"

Amen looked in Ken's direction, but Ken knew that he didn't see him. His eyes were glassy, his face was slacked, his postured hunched. And, for only a moment, Ken hesitated. There, before him, was a picture of vulnerability that Ken had never imagined could be associated with Amen.

But as suddenly as the thought came, Ken crushed it down. His chin rose and his shoulders squared themselves. One hand pushed away his jacket as the other gripped the weight of the knife.

Ken had never had a word to describe his relationship with Amen with. Amen was his mentor, his boss, his leader, but he was also his enemy. A face and a name to be hated and despised and even feared. But, for a long time, Ken had needed him to survive and ascend. But as the war drew to a close, Amen's mind had deteriorated along with their front lines. He was no longer an ally to defend nor an enemy to hate; there was nothing left in him to manipulate. There was nothing left but a liability.

Ken never heard the sounds of Amen's limp body hitting the ground. He never noticed the way his body seemed to relax, almost with relief at the knowledge that every stress his life had once held was falling away. Instead he watched, oblivious to the danger, oblivious to the crime he had just committed, oblivious to the fact that fear should have been welling within him. He simply watched as the walls shook and the forceshields covering the windows shimmered and died away. He watched with cold eyes as a fire stripped the garden bare of its elaborate forest. He watched as the fire spread into Amen's office, flames licking the large oak desk and fire breathing its hot breath against the years' old painting. He watched as the canvas shriveled under the heat. He watched as the insanity of Amen's mind fell to ashes.

/-/-

Manick stood, his back to the fighting, as his eyes skimming over the dark night. The SF were retreating to their strong hold a few miles away, leaving the Earth Consulate unguarded and uncared for. It was a symbolic victory at best, but a victory.

Movement caught his eye. He could imagine a man, mud sloshing under his feet as he tried to run, water slashing onto his pants, making them grow heavier with every step. With night-vision aids already to his eyes, he took in the familiar face and sighed.

His hand gripped at a young man's shoulder. Jakob only paused a moment to look up at his leader. He kept his eyes trained on the enemy as he waited for orders. Manick ordered his attention elsewhere and he peered through the darken sky to find his target. Manick didn't watch to see if the man had hit his target; he knew he had.

Movement behind his men caught his attention momentarily, but he looked back to the fighting. The actual physical aspect of fighting wasn't his strong point. He came up with plans; he figured out the puzzles of tactics. He didn't fire phasers or storm buildings.

Reggie was at his arm suddenly, surprising him when she pulled at his arm to get his attention.

"We've found something. You have to see it."

"Is it about that weapon?" She merely shook her head.

Hardened eyes meet her shaken green ones. He nodded once, curtly agreeing to follow her. She led him into the building at a secured site and pulled him through a maze of corridors. He was impressed, for a moment, at her knowledge of the place. But that faded as he recalled the many hundreds of times she had infiltrated the building. Then she stopped short. Manick looked about himself, but there were no doors or access panels. Instead there was a picture that had been removed from the wall to reveal a hidden stairwell.

Reggie hesitated but nodded at him. She stepped through first and Manick followed, nervousness growing in the pit of his stomach at what he might find. The place was dark and old, unnaturally so. It reminded him of the ancient buildings he had visited in Europe, the crumbling stone walls and the damp staleness that accompanied such age.

Several light-torches left in the hallway lit their way. "Over here," she called to him as she turned into an opening in the stone wall. He looked in, blinking hard against the darkness the room was still plunged in. A cell was the only word he could find to describe it. Reggie tugged his sleeve, beckoning him to step further into the room.

And that's when he saw him. A tiny shadow of a man, hunched in the corner, his shoulders shaking in silent tears. The dim light filtered in from the hallway, allowing Manick to make out the once proud and triumphant Starfleet uniform that hung in shreds from the man's hollow body.

"Are there others?" he found himself saying, but his eyes never left the pitiful sight.

"Andy's looking. We're almost certain there must be." He could only nod.

Cautiously, not wanting to startle the man, he stepped forward. The man didn't look up at him, didn't acknowledge him, but he did grow still. Manick knelt, wincing at how cold the floor was even through his thick clothes. As gently as he could, he placed a kind hand on the man's shoulder, hoping to gain his attention. It took some time for the man to recognize the action, but slowly- uncertainly- he raised his eyes, his empty eyes meeting Manick in a wary gaze.

"My name is Manick," he said slowly, "I am the leader of a rebellion against President Amen." Manick shivered at the coldness of the man's gaze. His eyes stared straight at Manick; straight through him, really. "Who are you?"

"Date?"

"Sorry?"

The man's tongue rolled over his lips, wetting the cracked skin, "Date," his voice cracked again.

Manick glanced back at Reggie. She shrugged. Looking back at the man, "On the Human calendar… September 14, 2386."

"Fifteen years."

Slowly Manick nodded, translating the raspy, neglected voice. He twisted again, finding Reggie's horrified stare. "Fifteen years, he's been here. Amen is a sick and twisted bastard."

"Well, who the hell is he?"

"What's your name?"

The man was looking at Reggie, but slowly- just as uncertainly as before- he returned his gaze to Manick. "Name?" He had the look about him as a man trying to recall the remnants of a blissful dream. Manick touched his shoulder again; the man looked at him, blankly at first.

"Your name?"

"Picard… Jean-Luc Picard."

The name was familiar but Manick shook his head and stood. Reggie watched as he stormed past her and back into the lit hallway. "Find every soul in this place and get them upstairs on a transport. I don't care what kind of casualties they're already dealing with, these people are priority."

"Yeah…" Reggie's voice trailed away as she looked back to the man- to Picard huddled in the corner.

/-/-/-/

/- _**A Few Days Later**_

He couldn't control himself as he walked, his gait growing faster with every step. His eyes were focused on the end of the hall. Room after room passed by, but still he stared at that last one.

But then he slowed as he neared it, a sudden nervousness attacking his body. He tried to sigh it away and breathe in deeply to beg a calmness to come in and replace it.

He inhaled a shaking breath as he looked at the closed door. He had to enter and see for himself. The news alone had nearly shocked the life from him; the reality was more than his mind could handle. And yet he felt his hand reaching for the release. The door slid away, revealing a thin, frail body hidden by hospital sheets and a food tray. A shaking hand picked at the food, but Riker noted that little had made it off the plate and to his mouth.

Riker sighed as he watched. It was Picard; there was no doubt in his mind that the aged man was once his mentor.

He wasn't sure what noise he had made that caught the man's attention, but suddenly pale blue eyes were staring back at him. Riker's breath caught at the blankness, at the uncertainty. He watched as a shadow of a memory passed over the old man's face; he watched as Picard desperately sought a memory or a name.

Riker had buried his Captain years before and years later he had finally accepted him as dead. Then he had heard the news. Picard had been a prisoner of the Federation. His mind had been tortured and his body had faded with the years. Riker had buried the man he once knew, and he wondered briefly if that man was gone forever, replaced by a ghost of his former self.

/-/-

It felt good to be back. Good to be back on her ship and among her crew- her family. It felt like she had never left as she stepped out of the close confines of the turbolift. She paused as she looked out over the bridge- not quite as she left it. The bulkheads were cleared away, the open conduits were shut again from sight, even the burn marks had been covered.

She scrunched her eyes together as she approached her chair, but it was mostly habit by then. There was a certain blurriness to everything that she had come to expect every morning. She had learned to compensate, to use her knowledge of her surroundings and a "blindsuit" to assist her.

Janeway sighed, contented, as she sank into her chair for the first time in seven months. A smile spread over her lips as she peered over her bridge crew. Tom sat anxiously at the Helm, fingers tapping as he waited for her to give the command. Tuvok stood, stoic, at his tactical station. Harry was at ops, his stance a little looser and his mind far sharper than the first day she had met him. And to her left she knew Chakotay was at her side, smiling down at her.

She leaned back into her chair, her right leg crossing over the left. She smiled up at Chakotay and then over at Tom. No, nothing had changed. Not her crew, not her ship, just their mission. She smiled as she thought about that. They wouldn't be exploring any unknown civilizations just yet, but in time perhaps.

"Course, Captain?"

She smiled as Tom shot a glance at her over his shoulder. "Take us home, Lieutenant. To Earth."

"Aye, Captain."

/-/-

Jadzia wiggled her toes as the sand assaulted the tender skin. She just smirked, letting the old forgotten sensations over come her. The feel of the course material scrapping and tickling her skin; letting the soft song of the water lapping over the short tickled her ears.

Laughter was carried to her by the soft wind and she smiled as she looked up at the shrieks of her two little boys. JJ ran into the ocean, letting the waves chase him back to the shore. Ty stood just at the edge of the tide, laughing as the water cooled his toes and laughing as he brother tripped into the water and laughing as the sand flaked off his little body.

She smiled at them, her eyes softening as she watched. It had never escaped her mind that they had never experienced such a day. A day of utter peace. A day unmarred by the possibility of danger. Never before had they lived in peace.

The urge overtook her senses. The urge to cry for them- for the children who had never experienced a childhood filled with innocence; for the children who's father had been stolen from them, but not taken completely to rest; for the children who would have to fix the mess of years of war as those who caused it faded into history's grasp. And she did cry for the man who had dreamed of that day that she was finally living and for the man who had been taken from her before he could see it come to life.

JJ's laugh brought her mind away from all that. And she smiled again as she watched Ty run out into the water with his brother. And she laughed as she watched Ty turn and run before the wave had even formed. And she laughed because she felt guilty not laughing.

/-/-

He shielded his eyes from the mid-day Betazoid sun as he stepped out of the transport shuttle. His eyes met the dirt path first- the long path that would finally lead him home. But despite the urge to run down it and to burst through the doors and hold his wife and children, he stood there, simply staring at his home. He had almost forgotten how lovely it was, how perfect it was. He had almost forgotten all the good memories he had made there.

And then, there she was. Deanna stood in the doorway, her body stiff in anticipation, but her eyes smiling at him. He could feel the emotions brushing at the front of his mind. He could only smile at her. And then she was running toward him and he laughed as he met her halfway up the path, wrapping his arms around her slender body and pulling her to him.

And then another weight gripped at his waist and another mind laughed. He looked down and smiled at Liz, surprised to see that he didn't have to arch his neck down as far to look into his little girl's eyes. He smiled and moved one of his arms to pat her back and hug her close.

Then his eyes found Lwaxana's- a stoic presence, smiling on at the sight. And he smiled back at her; a silent thanks for being there for them, for being there for him, for just being Lwaxana.

And his were the last he found. Cool blue eyes looked back at his. And Will just smiled at the boy, opening up his one hand, beckoning him to join the circle of hugs. But Chamberlain just looked away, his eyes finding the ground first before his body turned and he walked back into the house.

Will looked back to Deanna, but, in the excitement, she had missed the interaction between father and son and she just smiled back at him. He tried to smile convincingly, but she had always known him. And so he looked away, his eyes finding the horizon.

/-/-/-/

/- _**Recorded Around the Same Time**_

"Message sent from: Chamberlain Jean-Luc Riker. Message sent to: Jonathon James Bashir.

"It's over. Well, at least that's what they tell me. You know… I was born and there was war. Every day was plagued with the sights of war, and I didn't even notice for a long time. And now this war is over… and all I can think about it what it could possibly be like to live without everything I've always known…

"I wonder what life is going to be like. What am I going to do? I had just assumed that I would go to the Academy, learn to pilot a starship or something, and fight. I never really considered anything beyond that. You're going to be a doctor- in war or peace there's always room for them. But what about me? There's still Alliance Fleet. They'll still need people in five years from now…

"You think, in five years, they'll still be rebuilding worlds, rebuilding trust and communication between us and the Federation? You think they'll try to reunited us? Gamma says that's a plan. That would be weird, don't you think? Can you imagine Earth being an ally? A place to actually go and visit?

"Liz joined the Academy three days ago without anyone's approval. I think they might be all right with it, considering she's not in that much danger anymore. But mom's upset.

"Do you think things will ever feel normal again?"

/-/-

Once again, thanks for reading. I hope you enjoyed! Please leave one final review and let me know what you thought!

Hugs, JD.


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